Settle Down
by sarahkwUT
Summary: Damon Salvatore is a fast-talking, womanizing sports agent, living big in New York City and leaving his childhood in Mystic Falls far behind him. When he returns home for his father's funeral, he meets Elena Gilbert, a fiery brunette who gets under his skin. Between her and facing his past, returning to Mystic Falls may change his life. AU/AH
1. Repass

**I'm quite nervous to be posting this. I used to write fan fiction _all _the time, but life got busy with college and being a grown up and stuff. I'm also a new Vampire Diaries fan - binge watched it on Netflix - and became a big fan of the Damon/Elena relationship. I had this idea and decided to run with it and see what happens. You may hate it, you may love it, but I'm going to put it out there. **

**Damon Salvatore is a fast-talking, womanizing sports agent living big in New York City, leaving his small town childhood in Mystic Falls well behind him. He returns to the small town after his father's passing to handle his affairs and meets Elena Gilbert, a confident, intelligent brunette that seems impervious to his charms. Between pursuing the feisty Elena and coming to terms with his past, returning to Mystic Falls may just change his life.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own _Vampire Diaries. _**

* * *

Elena Gilbert blew out a breath of boredom and swirled the champagne around in her flute. She would never understand the concept of the repass, the gathering for a meal after a funeral. It was tradition, she supposed, especially in the South, but the concept of congregating to wine and dine mere minutes after laying a person in their final resting place seemed wrong.

All around her, the residents of Mystic Falls sipped from tumblers and stems of their choice, sampled from the expansive buffet laid out along one wall as they laughed and talked amongst themselves. An hour earlier, the very same people were standing somberly around a rectangular hole dug six feet deep, an elaborate and expensive coffin perched above it as a pastor presided over last farewells. The merriment now was hypocritical, at best. Most of the people gathered at the Lockwood mansion, so graciously offered up by Carol Lockwood for a place to host the repass, were only there for show. Giuseppe Salvatore was a member of a founding family - his repass was a cocktail party in disguise. She took a sip from her glass as she rolled her eyes at her present situation.

"Champagne too dry?" came an unfamiliar voice. Elena turned, her eyes meeting the very blue orbs of someone she had only ever seen from a distance.

Damon Salvatore stood before her, clad in a perfectly tailored, all-black designer suit, the definition of walking sex. Elena wouldn't deny that he was attractive, but she could sniff out his type from a mile away. Devastatingly handsome with more money than sense, he was trouble she didn't need nor want. And if she had to guess, she'd be willing to bet that he was playing the dead daddy card for a sympathy bed.

"I prefer a brut, actually," she told him. "I'd say this is a dry/sec, at best."

"Interesting. I pegged you for a doux."

"Well, you pegged wrong." The corner of one side of Dam`1on's lips quirked upwards in a smirk. She was feisty. He liked that in a conquest. It tended to make the time spent between the sheets a little hotter.

"Little Elena Gilbert from down the street grew up to have a bit of fire inside," he said. "Color me impressed." Elena's eyes flickered to where Damon's brother, Stefan, was greeting the townspeople, looking appropriately somber and as fazed by the death of a parent as one should be.

"Shouldn't you be with your brother, greeting mourners and thanking them for their sympathy?" she asked.

"Been doing that for days," Damon said with a casual shrug. He took a couple of steps around her and helped himself to the open bar. "It was boring on day one, even more boring now. So, when I saw a pretty girl standing over here all by her lonesome, I decided to take a break from playing mourning son and use my best lines to get you into the coat closet I spied in the entry way." Elena had expected him to make a pass. She hadn't expected him to be so blunt. Regardless, she was ending his pursuit before it started.

"As much as I appreciate the compliment, your best lines have failed you." She made to walk away, but Damon, now with a tumbler of bourbon in his hand, stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

"Who said that was my best line?" he asked. Elena emptied her remaining champagne and discarded her empty flute as a waiter with an empty tray passed.

"I'm not that kind of girl," she told him. "But you are that kind of guy. And I'm not interested." She made to move past him again and this time, he allowed her to pass. Even as she joined her friends, she could feel his eyes on her. She made it a point not to give him the satisfaction of looking his way.

"Damon Salvatore is staring at you like you're a piece of meat," Caroline Forbes stated. Happily engaged to Tyler Lockwood, she could still appreciate a man as beautiful as Damon Salvatore.

"I'm a woman," Elena replied. "As far as he's concerned, we are all meat."

"He doesn't seem too upset that his father just died," Bonnie Bennett observed as she nibbled at a crab cake from the small plate she held in her hand.

Elena chanced a glance in his direction and wasn't altogether surprised to see he'd moved on to his next target. He caught her looking and winked at her before turning his attention back to the unsuspecting red head. Elena rolled her eyes once more and turned back to her friends who had already moved the topic of conversation on to the Labor Day celebration Caroline was planning. Elena nodded and smiled and contributed to the conversation as needed, but she let her thoughts drift to what she could remember about Damon Salvatore.

He was six years older than her, a senior in high school when she was in seventh grade. His younger brother, Stefan, had been in her year. She had dated Stefan on and off in high school, had photos from their junior prom tucked away in the attic somewhere. Even then, he'd been known as the good brother, the Salvatore that could be counted on to bring his date home before curfew and mind his morals. It was Damon the parents of young daughters worried about.

Elena had kept her distance from the elder Salvatore growing up, mainly because he was so much older, but also because she knew even as an impressionable middle schooler that he was dangerous. Her vague memories of him featured him in mostly black, leaning against his muscle car, taking drags from a cigarette or else making out with some girl in a dark corner.

He'd left Mystic Falls the same day as graduation. There were all sorts of rumors about his disappearance, each one more ridiculous than the next. But Stefan had filled her in, saying he'd took off almost as soon as they'd arrived home from the graduation ceremony for South Beach where he'd partied through a significant portion of his trust fund. From there, he'd bounced from city to city, showing up in Mystic Fork for the odd holiday, only to leave again almost immediately. Stefan never said much about his older brother, but it was understood amongst their close-knit circle of friends that they were less than close.

While Caroline and Bonnie chattered on about one thing and then another, Elena's gaze fell on Stefan. Their relationship was strictly that of friends these days, but she knew he would make someone, likely Rebekah, the girl he'd been dating for several months and seemed to fall for a little more each day, the perfect husband. He was kind and loving, put others before himself. He'd gone to medical school and was now a second year trauma resident at the University of Virginia Medical Center about 45 minutes outside of Mystical Falls. As for Damon, he was a womanizer with money and worked as a broker or something like that in New York City. The two brothers couldn't be more different.

"Seriously, Elena, I'm jealous," Caroline said, breaking Elena out of her reverie. "Damon has practically undressed you with his eyes and probably done a few other things too."

"Well, that's as close as he'll get," Elena quipped. She checked the time and deemed it appropriate for her to say her farewells. "I'm going to head home, try to get some work done before bed. I'll see you both tomorrow." After exchanging goodbyes, she crossed the room to Stefan.

"Heading out?" he asked.

"Yeah," she confirmed. "I wanted to tell you goodbye before I left. Where is Rebekah?" Stefan nodded towards his girlfriend who was conversing with Carol Lockwood.

"Charming the neighbors," he said. "She fits right in."

"She does," Elena agreed. She gave Stefan a pointed smile. "She fits right in around Mystic Falls too." Stefan chuckled.

"Thanks, Elena," he said. "And thanks for coming."

"Where else would I be?" she countered. She leaned in and gave him a hug.

"Leaving so soon?" came Damon's voice as she pulled away from Stefan. "Or, should I say, leaving without a goodbye?"

"Yes," Elena replied. Damon raised an eyebrow.

"To which of my questions?" he countered.

"Both."

"My dad just died. I think I deserve a hug too."

"Damon," Stefan warned in an undertone. Damon threw a glare at his brother before painting on a smirk and turning back to Elena.

"Thank you for grieving with us," he said, his words laced with sarcasm. Elena scrunched her face in confusion at Damon's clear disinterest in the fact that his father was dead. Stefan just shook his head behind Damon and turned to speak to someone who had approached to offer their sympathies.

"For what it's worth, I am sorry about your father," Elena told him. "I liked Giuseppe."

"That makes one of us," Damon grumbled. He took a swig from the refilled bourbon glass in his hand.

"Bye, Damon," Elena said with a quick shake of her own head. She turned and walked away, feeling his eyes on her once more as she left the building. Only when she'd disappeared through the doors did Damon turn back to Stefan.

"She single?" he asked. "Not that it matters if she's not."

"Leave her alone," Stefan told him in an undertone. "She's a good person."

"And I'm not?" Damon replied.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" Stefan asked.

"Nah," Damon said. A leggy blond passed by and gave him a suggestive look. "I'd rather live up to your expectations." With that, he left in pursuit of the blond. Stefan watched him go, blowing out a breath to keep his temper under control. He reminded himself that it was Damon. He'd be gone in a few days. Possibly even by morning.

* * *

**So? What did you think? I have a number of updates already written out to post over the course of the next several days. I'd love to know what you thought of chapter one!**


	2. Quiet

**Thank you all so much for the welcome! I have a lot of this story written out, so I hope to update every couple of days or so. **

**One thing I meant to mention in my first update - I was born and raised in the very same place the fictitious Mystic Falls appears on a map and still live near there. So as you read my updates, a number of "real" places - restaurants, roads, landmarks, etc. - will appear. I got pretty excited when that locator spell showed the location of Mystic Falls! **

**Thanks again for your support - I hope you like this one as well! (and forgive any grammar or spelling mistakes as I'm not working with a beta - this is purely for fun. :))**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

It was quiet.

Quiet was the only way Damon liked the Salvatore Boarding House. He could barely remember it before, when it was full of love and laughter. Him with his parents. Family dinners and extravagant holiday celebrations. Quiet nights spent reading by the fireplace. And then Stefan had come into the world the same night his mother had left it and he'd been forced into the shadows, outshined by his little brother in every way.

He hated being back here. He hated that he felt obligated to return, to attend his father's funeral and offer pseudo support to his brother who was heartbroken over their father's death, no matter how expected it had been. He had left this place in his past for a reason.

He would have left the second the repass was over if it were up to him. But because Giuseppe Salvatore had to get in one last laugh from the grave, he was somehow the executor of the estate and had to stick around for a meeting with the family lawyer for a reading of the will that for one reason or another, couldn't take place for another two weeks. Not that there would be much to it. Stefan would get everything, he would go back to New York and life would go back to normal. He didn't need a crusty old lawyer to read a piece of paper to tell him that.

He swirled the whiskey in his snifter. The absentminded gesture reminded him of a certain brunette at his father's repass, standing near the bar looking bored. He remembered her from his childhood. Elena Gilbert was hard to forget. Even as a youngster, she was the darling of Mystic Falls, daughter of the beloved Miranda and Grayson Gilbert, star student, captain of the cheerleading squad. He was pretty sure he'd heard she was Miss Mystic Falls at some point too, a nugget of information he'd picked up on one of his quick, obligatory trips home.

Her beauty had pulled him in, but it was her wit that had kept his attention. Women didn't turn him down. The occasional one tried, of course, although they were far and few between. He knew how to use his words to get what he wanted, both in his personal life and his career, and he had thought Elena would be easy to sweet talk into his bed, given her small town upbringing. He hadn't expected her fiery response and he was admittedly intrigued.

The quiet was broken by the hushed sounds of his brother and the Brit returning him. They had stayed at the repass far longer than he had. He hadn't been able to take the fake sympathy or the clear adoration virtually the entire town had for his younger brother. Not that it surprised him. Stefan was always the favorite. He'd grown tired of the innocent questions about what he was doing with his life these days, aware that those asking didn't actually care. They had only been looking for details about the long lost Salvatore son or else laying on their fake condolences thick.

Mystic Falls hadn't changed. That's what he had taken away from his father's death and subsequent funeral. It still looked the same. The people were the same, just older. The founding families – his included – still controlled everything, from the town council to the economy. People still gossiped and whispered amongst themselves. He was still given a wide berth.

He hated this place. The town, the house, all of it. He had intended to get on a plane and head back to New York first thing in the morning, but Chester, the family lawyer, had other plans. Apparently being the executor meant he had to oversee the Salvatore sawmill in the interim, pay bills and tie up whatever loose ends his father had left behind. It made him all that more bitter that Giuseppe was managing to control his life from the grave. He chose to focus on that as opposed to the fact that he felt very little sorry over his father's death. If he thought about how he hadn't shed so much as a tear, he would start feeling guilty. And guilt was one of the last emotions he ever let himself feel. Guilt caused more trouble than it was worth.

He turned up his glass to empty it and the whiskey burned as it went down his throat. He was stuck in Mystic Falls for the next couple of weeks, whether he liked it or not. Gazing into the empty fireplace, he decided to make it a little more interesting than the vanilla blond he'd invited into the coat closet following Elena's rejection.

* * *

Elena's fingers flew across the keyboard, her words coming faster than she could type. She paused from time to time only to take drags from her latte and save her work. She was in a zone, oblivious to those in the coffee shop around her, meeting with friends or, like her, attempting to get some work done. She was so into her work and the words unfolding in front of her that she didn't notice the shadow fall across her table.

"This seat taken?" She gasped, started by the interruption, and looked up just as Damon Salvatore lowered himself into the empty chair across from her without waiting for her response.

"Damon," she said by way of greeting. Her tone was even. She hadn't forgotten his blatantly suggestive behavior at the repass two days earlier.

"Elena," he replied as though he didn't have a care in the world. And, Elena guessed, he probably didn't, given his overly large ego. He helped himself to the sugar and creamer on the table, adding three packets of sugar and a dash of milk. "Am I disturbing you?" He stirred his coffee, his eyes now on Elena.

"I'm working," she told him.

"You're really bad at questions," he replied.

"I'm on a deadline." Elena gave him a pointed look before turning her attention back to her work.

"A deadline?" he inquired.

"A deadline," Elena confirmed. She went back to her work, her fingers moving a bit slower over the keys as she tried to regain her train of thought.

"Forget questions. You're flat out bad at stringing together sentences." Elena sighed and stopped typing again. She fixed her eyes on Damon.

"Hello, Damon, it's nice to see you again. I'm terribly busy right now. You see, I have a job and part of that job is to meet editorial guidelines. My piece is due to the editor by six o'clock tonight and it's already half past three. So forgive me for saying that yes, you are disturbing me." The smirk on Damon's face grew wider as he raised his hands to give Elena a short, muted round of applause.

"She speaks," he said. He leaned on the table, a curious expression on his face. Elena tried not to think about how attractive he was or how blue his eyes were – or how they seemed to be solely focused on her. She gave the slightest shake of her head and went back to work.

"I thought you'd be on a red eye to New York as soon as the repass wound down," she said.

"Yeah, well, Giuseppe has a sense of humor. I'm stuck here for a couple of weeks."

Elena remembered then that Stefan had told them the same evening Giuseppe took his last breath that Damon had been named the executor of the estate following his death. Stefan had been oddly okay with, a fact she, Caroline and Bonnie had discussed when he'd left to meet the corner. With Damon virtually out of the picture, they didn't understand why Stefan wasn't placed in charge of the Salvatore estate and its assets.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," she mentioned.

"I live in New York," Damon reminded her. "It's the greatest city in the world. Getting stuck here? Not exactly what I had planned."

"New York is just a city," Elena said with a shrug. She resumed typing once more.

"Just a city? Have you ever been there? It's far from 'just a city.'"

"I've been there," Elena confirmed. "And I'd tell you all about it, including the location of my favorite sushi place, if it weren't for this whole being on a deadline thing." Damon opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the ringing of his phone. Elena made a face at the obnoxious rap song about money to blow that was earning Damon dirty looks from the nearby tables.

"Talk to me," Damon said by way of greeting. Elena watched as he transitioned from arrogant playboy to hardnosed businessman. His mouth slowly fell from a smirk to an ever deepening frown as he listened. He shook his head. "No. Add a zero onto that figure and call me in the morning." He hung up, dropped his phone and picked up his coffee all in one move. "Now where were we?"

"Does being an ass always get you what you want?" Elena asked, sparing him a glance.

"Usually," he confirmed. "The few times I don't get what I want I end up with a suitable compromise."

Elena shook his head but didn't say anything. To her surprise, Damon didn't say anything either. Instead, he picked up his phone and started scrolling through emails, tapping out replies to those that warranted it, all while his phone continuously chimed with new messages. He sipped his coffee, letting Elena work in peace, if peace could be called trying not to glance at him every so often. A quarter of an hour passed before his phone rang again.

"Change your mind?" he answered. He stood then, draining the last of his coffee as he went. "Bye, Elena," he mouthed, giving her a smirk and a wink before he turned and walked out of the coffee shop, already negotiating with whoever was on the phone as he went. It took until the door shut behind him and he disappeared around the corner of the shop for Elena to realize she was holding her breath.

"What did Damon Salvatore want?" Bonnie asked, dropping into the once again vacant seat at her table.

"Bonnie? When did you get here?"

"A few minutes ago," Bonnie said with a shrug. "You were engrossed in something, whether that was your writing or Damon is yet to be determined, so you didn't see me walk in."

"I was engrossed in my writing," she said. "Damon invited himself to join me and proceeded to get on my last nerve for the half hour or so he sat there."

"He makes me uneasy," Bonnie said. "But I'm not sure if it's in a good or bad way."

"I know what you mean," Elena said. Bonnie smiled at her, a smile Elena recognized all too well. "What?"

"You should go out with him," she said. "He's gorgeous. And only passing through. Have a fling, Elena. Walk on the wild side, so to speak."

"I'm sorry. I thought I was talking to Bonnie. But you sound an awful lot like Caroline." It wasn't that Bonnie never gave unwarranted advice on Elena's love life, nonexistent or otherwise. She just usually wasn't so blunt. Bonnie chuckled.

"I'm just trying to get you to see the opportunity in front of you," she said. "And to get you back in the dating pool."

"Back in?" Elena asked. "You make it sound like I was ever in the dating pool around here to begin with."

"Which is my point," Bonnie said. "With the exception of a few innocent dinners with Matt Donovan, you haven't been on a date since you moved back. It couldn't hurt to have a little fun. Or a lot of fun, given that Damon Salvatore clearly knows what he's doing."

"When I do go on a date with someone, it won't be Damon," Elena told her best friend.

"Fine," Bonnie said, raising her hands in a gesture of peace. "This is where I defer from Caroline because I'm letting it go. Even if I think you should give it a shot, have some fun. But I do need to get going. Jeremy is waiting for me and I know you have work to do."

"I do," Elena confirmed. "I'll see you later."

Elena continued working following Bonnie's departure, but her mind kept drifting to blue eyes and clever smirks. There was something about him that caught her attention. Something besides his drop dead gorgeous good looks. It was like something deep inside her told her she had known him before, not just during her childhood but in another life. Even if she knew he wasn't the kind of guy for her, she couldn't quite shake him, even after just two brief conversations.

Pushing thoughts of Damon as far from the front of her mind as she could, she refocused completely on her work, the words to an obnoxious rap song stuck in her head.

* * *

**Let me know what you think!**


	3. Faulkner

**First, my apologies for accidentally uploading the wrong document for chapter 2 - I fixed it pretty quickly, but a few of you may have gotten a repeat of chapter one! **

**Thank you all 100 times over for your feedback and taking the time to read and review - I appreciate it so very much!**

**Two things - last chapter I mentioned in the AN that I grew up where the fictitious Mystic Falls is on a map. One of the things I love about this area is all the wineries and breweries - they're _everywhere. _And Damon enjoys them too. Also, I'm a huge literature buff, particularly of the Southern Renaissance. That should explain an exchange included in this chapter. **

**Happy Reading!**

* * *

Damon lounged comfortably on the soft leather couch, a book in one hand, a locally brewed beer in the other. While Mystic Falls didn't have much to offer him in the way of nightlife, he did have to appreciate the density of breweries and wineries in the town and surrounding areas. He was just starting another chapter when he heard the front door open and close. He groaned inwardly.

"Hey," Stefan greeted, entering the room dressed in navy blue scrubs, his hospital ID clipped to his chest pocket.

"Dr. McDreamy," Damon replied, eyes still trained on his book. Stefan ignored him as he passed through the room and into the kitchen. Much to Damon's dismay, he returned a few minutes later with a beer of his own.

"_Gone With The Wind?" _he asked as he took a seat in an armchair and propped his feet on the coffee table. "Again?"

"Rhett Butler is a bad ass," Damon answered. "My spirit animal."

"Some role model," Stefan replied before taking a swig of his beer. Damon looked over at him.

"Don't you have a place in Charlottesville?" he asked. "And if you do, why aren't you there?"

"I do," Stefan confirmed. "And maybe I wanted to hang out with my big brother."

"Lies," Damon said, turning back to his book. Stefan chuckled though not from humor.

"What'd you get into today?" he asked.

"Oh, you know, sealed an endorsement deal with a shoe company, had some coffee. Now I'm reading and drinking because there's nothing else to do in this town," Damon answered. "You?"

"Set a few broken bones, treated a kid with a stomach virus, lost a 50 year old man who fell seven stories on a construction site."

"I definitely had the better day," Damon said, turning back to his book.

"I'll give you that," Stefan agreed. He took another long drag from his beer, contemplating his brother who was working hard to ignore him. "How long are you planning to stick around?" he finally asked.

"Until Chester can read the will and I sign whatever papers I need to sign. You'll get everything Giuseppe Salvatore owned, I'll get on a plane back to New York, and we'll all get on with our lives."

"Dad made you the executor for a reason," Stefan told him.

"I'm sure he did," Damon agreed. "I'm just waiting for the punch line." Stefan sighed and stood up.

"Dad loved you," he told Damon. "Regardless of what you think you know about him." He left the room, leaving Damon to his thoughts, his beer and his book.

* * *

The next night, Damon found himself at Mystic Grill, pulled up to the bar with a burger platter and a tumbler of coke and rum. He made small talk somewhat against his will, but figured it beat another night of sitting in a big, empty house re-reading the same old book. He absentmindedly texted with one of his clients, assuring the rookie NBA player an extramarital affair wouldn't go public. The door to the restaurant opened, causing the bell above the door to chime. Damon glanced in its direction out of instinct and was rewarded with Elena – and a rather large group of friends – walking through it. He smirked and turned back to his meal.

Elena and her group filled an empty table near the jukebox, laughing and talking. Damon kept his back to them, flirting with the bartender, a busty redhead he vaguely remembered from his school days, to give him something to do. She'd just slipped him her number on a cocktail napkin when Elena appeared at his elbow.

"Hey, Emmy, glass of Riesling?" The redhead nodded, gave Damon a sultry smirk, and crossed to the other side of the bar to pour Elena's glass.

"Evening, Elena," Damon greeted.

"Damon," Elena replied. She spied the cocktail napkin. "You work quick."

"Details," he said. He balled up the cocktail napkin and tossed it towards a nearby trashcan, careful to make sure Emmy didn't see him do it as he planned on using the place as his drinking grounds until he could return to New York.

"You get your way yesterday?" she asked. Emmy brought her glass of wine, giving her a distasteful look in the process before turning to help another customer. Elena rolled her eyes and picked up her glass, making Damon chuckle.

"Like I told you, I always get my way," he said. "I can be very persuasive."

"I'm sure you can," Elena replied. "Bye, Damon." She returned to his friends, Damon openly watching her walk away, much to the delight of her blond friend. He winked, grinned at her bulging eyes and turned back to his meal. He was nearly done with his meal when he heard his name.

"Damon Salvatore." Damon put down what was left of his burger and wiped his hands on a napkin as he turned towards the still familiar voice, even though he hadn't heard it in years.

"Alaric Saltzman," he replied. He offered his hand. "Long time, no see," he said as the two old friends shook hands.

"Been a while," Alaric agreed. He took a seat on the stool next to Damon and was delivered a drink almost as soon as he sat down. "I'm sorry to hear about your father's passing. Giuseppe was a good man."

"Two things people keep telling me," Damon replied. He drained his rum and signaled for another one. "Were you at the funeral? It was the social event of the year, I'm told. A member of a founding family dying and all."

"Still a dick, I see," Ric said. "But no, I wasn't at the funeral. I was on a two week field trip to Europe with my AP European History class. My wife told me about his passing, but I couldn't up and leave a bunch of high school seniors to roam the streets of Barcelona."

"I'm not sure what part of that statement is less believable," Damon said. "The wife part, the teacher part or the unwillingness to let a bunch of horny teenagers have their fun." Ric chuckled.

"I am, in fact, married," he said. "To Jenna Sommers – now Saltzman. And we lead a very boring life where I teach high school history, Jenna sells real estate and we try to keep the youth of Mystic Falls from knowing what hell raisers we were back in the day."

"Jenna Sommers – isn't she Elena Gilbert's aunt?"

"She is," Ric confirmed. He eyed Damon. He hadn't seen or talked to his former best friend in years, but his reputation still managed to proceed him. "Why?" Damon shook his head in a dismissive fashion.

"No reason. She was at the funeral, said hello. And she's over there with her friends." He jerked his head towards Elena's group.

"She's a good kid," Ric said, shooting his pseudo niece a fond look. "Although I guess she's not really a kid anymore. What have you been up to these last several years?"

The night progressed, Damon and Ric catching up at the bar, Elena and her friends enjoying their dinner, sticking around to talk and laugh, something they didn't get to do as often as they used to given that they were adults now, with grown up responsibilities. It was nearing ten o'clock when Ric stood to leave.

"I should get going," he said. "Jenna had an open house tonight and her text messages have already told me she's home and I'm not. How long are you in town?"

"A couple weeks," Damon said. He reached for his wallet, pulled out a business card and handed it to Ric. "We should meet here to drink again."

"Deal," Ric said, glancing at the black and silver embossed card before tucking it into his jeans. "Good seeing you, Damon."

Damon stuck around for a while longer, nursing the last of his drink and closing out his tab. His ears perked up when he heard Elena start issuing her goodbyes to her friends who were still going strong. The night had taken the turn he'd been hoping for, the turn he'd been sticking around for.

"You walked here, didn't you?" one of group – Matt, if he remembered correctly – asked Elena.

"Yeah, I did," Elena confirmed. She reached to hug her brother who had an arm draped around Bonnie Bennett, something that gave Damon pause for the unexpected factor.

"If you can wait a few more minutes, Bonnie and I will drive you home," Jeremy said, hugging his sister with one arm.

"Or we can," he heard Caroline offer. "You shouldn't walk home by yourself."

"You guys stay. I'll be fine," Elena told them as she gathered her bag. "It's Mystic Falls, not New York City." There were more protests, more offers to drive Elena home or else walk with her, but she turned them down and bid them goodbye, walking out of the restaurant alone, just as Damon had hoped. He signed his credit card receipt with a flourish and hurried out the door after her. He stopped just outside the door and looked both ways, spying her just before she reached the corner to turn out of sight.

"Elena!" She stopped and turned at the sound of his voice. He jogged lightly to catch up with her. "Hey," he said when he reached her.

"Hey yourself," she replied. "Any reason you're chasing me down a sidewalk at ten o'clock at night?"

"I couldn't help but overhear that you were planning to walk yourself home," he said. "I'm here to be your knight in shining armor. Except instead of white horse, I have a '69 Camaro."

"If you overheard that, you also overhead me tell my friends repeatedly that I didn't need a ride," Elena said.

"I did overhear that," he confirmed. "Which is why I have a Plan B."

"Is this more of the 'I always get what I want' thing?" Elena countered.

"Yes. I'm walking you home." There was finality in Damon's voice. Elena decided it wasn't worth arguing.

"You know what? Fine. Walk me home. I'm too tired to argue." They settled into an easy pace.

"So did you meet that deadline?" Damon asked.

"I did."

"I'm guessing you're a writer of some sort?"

"Of some sort," Elena confirmed. "I freelance for a few publications, stuff like that."

"Write anything I might have read?"

"Doubt it. Unless you're into the whimsical stories that come from small town life."

"Any of those published in _Sports Illustrated?_ Or maybe _Playboy?" _Elena snorted.

"No," she said.

"Then no, probably nothing I've read." He grinned at Elena's light chuckle.

"What do you do?" she asked.

"What do you think I do?" Damon countered.

"Sweet talk people into giving you money," Elena answered easily, drawing a chuckle out of Damon this time.

"Not far from the truth," he confirmed. "I'm a sports agent."

"Which means you negotiate for people?"

"Not just people. The best athletes in the pro ranks. I negotiate their contracts, endorsement deals, get them press coverage, clean up the messes they make."

"Sounds like you're a babysitter."

"Some days," Damon agreed. "But the job has its perks."

"I'm guessing you were negotiating yesterday at the coffee shop?"

"Negotiating, making a quick $50,000, however you want to look at it. I've got a rookie football player who needs to distance himself from some leftover NCAA allegations from his college days, something about accepting bribes. I had to pull some strings, but I got him an endorsement deal with a shoe company. Multimedia campaigns, charity events – should clear up those pesky rumors."

"Because you don't condone bribery, I'm sure," Elena said, giving him a knowing look as they walked.

"He's a kid from the wrong side of the tracks, didn't have much growing up – material or family-wise. He saw a way to make some money and he took it. I can't fault the guy for wanting a better life."

Elena didn't reply but gazed at Damon thoughtfully. There was something about the tone of his voice as he talked about whoever the young football player was that made her think he might actually have a heart under the cool exterior he presented. Uncomfortable with the contemplative look Elena was giving him, he decided to change the subject.

"You're a writer which means you likely read. What's your favorite book?"

"_The Sound And The Fury," _Elena answered easily. Damon made a face.

"That's a terrible book," he said. Elena scoffed.

"No, it's not," she countered. "It's an incredible well-written story about the corruption of Southern aristocratic values."

"Quentin Compson is an idealistic psycho whose obsession with his sister's purity drives him to jumping off a bridge," Damon argued. "Anyone who has ever read that book should pat themselves on the back for not committing suicide along with him."

"You don't understand Faulkner," Elena said. "Which makes sense. His work isn't for everyone."

"Oh contraire," Damon said. "I've read just about everything Faulkner has written. _As I Lay Dying _is my second favorite book."

"Oh really? Let me guess. You fancy yourself a Jewel?"

"Hardly," Damon said with a scoff of his own. "More like Daryl."

"Daryl is insane. You just told me how awful _The Sound And The Fury _is because of Quentin Compson's mental issues."

"Daryl is far from insane. In fact, he's the only sane member of the Bundren family. Maybe sane to a fault, but sane all the same."

"Does that make you the only sane Salvatore then?" Damon grinned at Elena.

"Now you're catching on," he said. She laughed in earnest then, drawing a bigger smile out of Damon.

They walked along in silence for a few minutes, both lost in their own thoughts about the other. Damon had never met someone who could match his critique of classic literature, particular that from the Southern Renaissance. Her beauty, coupled with her brains and apparent aversion to his charms, attracted him to her all the more. Elena couldn't believe Damon Salvatore, of all people, was walking her to her door, making a valid and knowledgeable argument for his views on Faulkner. Of all the things she'd associated with Damon, bookworm wasn't one of them and yet she could tell he'd done more than skim the cliff notes lifted from some website.

"You said _As I Lay Dying _is your second favorite book," she said as they rounded the corner to her house. "What's your favorite?"

"Not a chance in hell I'm telling you that," Damon replied. Elena smirked.

"Must be something embarrassing," she observed. "_Twilight, _maybe? _50 Shades of Gray?" _

"Sparkling vampires and mommy porn aren't up to my standards," he said. They stopped at the gate at the end of Elena's sidewalk. "And we've arrived at Casa de Gilbert." Elena glanced at her house, wondering why the fifteen minute walk had seemed so short. "Tell me, how are the esteemed Dr. and Mrs. Gilbert these days?"

"They're dead," Elena said simply, turning her gaze back to Damon just in time to see the surprise register on his face.

"Elena… I'm sorry… I had any idea…," he stammered. Elena shook her head.

"It was a long time ago," she told him. "Car accident my sophomore year of high school. My aunt Jenna took care of me and Jeremy after they were gone."

"I'm sorry," Damon said again with a shake of his head. "How is Gilbert Two? He's with Bonnie Bennett?"

"They got married a couple years ago," Elena confirmed. "He actually played college football himself."

"Did he?" Damon asked. He only had vague memories of Jeremy Gilbert and they were of a scrawny kid with no signs of athletic ability.

"Wide receiver for James Madison University," Elena told him. "Obviously he wasn't good enough to go pro, but he had fun, got a good education on a scholarship."

"Good for him," Damon said, meaning it. He nearly asked how he'd ended up back in Mystic Falls, but stopped himself. He found himself wondering that a lot over the last couple of days, realizing that everyone he had known growing up was still in the small town. There was a great big world out there. He didn't get why they didn't explore it.

"Thanks for walking me home," Elena told him. "You didn't have to, but I appreciate it all the same."

"Couldn't let a pretty girl walk home all alone," Damon said. "Even in small town Mystic falls." Elena just shook her head and turned to walk up the sidewalk.

"Night, Damon," she said.

"Night, Elena." Damon watched as she walked away, a weird sensation fluttering around in his stomach. Before he could talk himself out of it, he called out to her again.

"Have dinner with me."

Elena stopped, halfway up the stairs of her porch, and looked at him.

"What?"

"Have dinner with me," Damon repeated. "Tomorrow. I'll pick you up at seven. Wear something pretty." He could practically see Elena's mind churning a mile a minute on whether to accept. "Just dinner, Elena. We both need to eat. May as well do it together." Slowly, Elena nodded, Bonnie's words from the coffee shop running through her head.

"Okay," she agreed, surprising herself. "Tomorrow at seven." Damon smiled and nodded at her once.

"Tomorrow at seven."

* * *

**Oh a date! But what is Damon's motive? And what's up with him and Dr. Stefan? **

**I'd love to hear what you think so far!**


	4. Maya

**I had intended for this to be two chapters, but after your wonderful comments on the last chapter, I decided I _had _to post the date this chapter. Which means its long. But it also has a _lot _of background information. What better way to fill in some back story than first date conversation? **

**The restaurant they go to in this update is one of my local favorites. And Damon ordered one of my favorite side dishes. ;) **

**Thanks so much for reading - I hope you enjoy this one too!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

"You're here again?" Damon asked as he walked into the kitchen the next morning wearing nothing but pajama pants, his hair sticking out in all directions.

"l live here," Stefan replied through a mouthful of waffle.

"No, you live in Charlottesville."

"Well, if that's the argument you want to make, you live in New York and yet, here you are."

"I do live in New York," Damon confirmed. "But it's a hell of a lot farther from here than your 45 minute trek." He poured himself a cup of coffee and located the creamer in the fridge. "And I'd be in New York right now if Giuseppe didn't have such a rip roaring sense of humor."

"There's some waffle batter left if you want one," Stefan replied, ignoring the comment about their father. Damon toasted Stefan with his coffee mug in response. Stefan took another bite of waffle, watching as Damon made a production of stirring cream and sugar into his mug. "Rumor has it you walked Elena Gilbert home from The Grill last night." Damon looked at him over his coffee mug.

"I forgot nothing is a secret around here," he said before taking a dreg from his mug.

"There are plenty of secrets in this town," Stefan said. "They just don't get broadcast in broad daylight."

"Technically, it was dark," Damon pointed out.

"You know what I mean." Damon moved to return the creamer to the fridge and took out several pieces of fruit while he had the door open.

"I wasn't going to let a girl – especially an attractive girl like Elena – walk home alone. Mystic Falls is the perfect setting for a horror movie. It's the kind of place where nothing bad ever happens which means it's one rapist away from being featured on the next episode of Unsolved Mysteries. I saw Elena to her door safely. The end."

"Is it?" Stefan asked. He knew his brother well.

"Well, I am taking her to dinner tonight," Damon said, taking another swig of his coffee. "So there's that."

"Damon," Stefan warned.

"What, is that awkward for you?" Damon replied, feigning interest. "I believe the two of you dated. I'm sure it must sting just a little bit to see her hitting it off with your older, better looking brother."

"Elena is a good person," Stefan replied, once again letting one of Damon's comments go. "She doesn't deserve to be led on."

"And does darling Rebekah know how you're rushing to Elena's defense?"

"Rebekah knows Elena and I are friends. Rebekah and Elena are friends. And Rebekah – who just left a few minutes ago – agrees with me on this. Don't screw with Elena."

"I'm just taking her to dinner," Damon said. "Everyone has to eat sometime."

"Don't lead her on," Stefan warned. "She deserves more."

"More than your screwed up big brother?" Damon challenged, getting the jest of where Stefan was going with his comments.

"Your reputation precedes you, Damon. You did it to yourself."

"Yeah, well, I'm out of here as soon as Chester reads the will. Then you and your bombshell British girlfriend can officially sign your names on the deed of this house and live happily ever after with no inconveniences from me. Although, I will be talking my car back to New York. I'd rather not leave it here. You understand."

"What makes you so sure Dad didn't leave you the house?" Stefan asked. Damon snorted.

"Who else would it go to? You were his favorite, the good son. I was the Salvatore screw up. Dad's last laugh is making me executor so I have to be there to oversee his legacy being handed over to you." Stefan sighed.

"He loved you, Damon. You just chose to believe what you wanted." It was the same sentence he'd been saying often since Damon arrived in Mystic Falls a full day after their father took his last breath.

"And you choose to believe that," Damon countered, using the same response he'd used several times already. He swigged from his coffee again.

"You blame me for Mom dying," Stefan said. It was a comment that had been brewing just under the surface for a long time. "But it wasn't my fault." That was enough for Damon. He had avoided this conversation for 26 years. He wasn't going to have it now.

"You know, I think I'll go out for breakfast," he said, leaving the fruit and waffle batter on the counter along with his nearly empty coffee mug. He turned and started to walk away.

"And don't think I don't see the resemblance between Elena and Katherine," Stefan continued. He knew he was hitting low, acting childish, even, but he wanted to get a rise out of his brother, provoke some kind of emotion besides the apathy he'd been wearing since arriving in Mystic Falls. "The dark hair, dark eyes. They're even the same build. It's eerie, how much they look alike." Damon looked over his shoulder at his younger brother.

"Looks like I have a type," he said evenly. "And little brother? Malice doesn't suit you."

With that, Damon headed upstairs, turned on his shower and stripped off his pajama bottoms. Stepping under the hot spray, he let his thoughts drift.

He hadn't missed the fact that Elena looked remarkably like his exe. As Stefan had so boldly pointed out, they had the same dark hair and eyes, were built similar, petite yet strong. He'd be lying if he said Elena's uncanny resemblance to Katherine hadn't been what first caught his attention. But unlike Katherine, Elena exuded warmth. Her smile, so kind and welcoming in itself, reached her eyes and her laugh was light and earnest. Katherine had been cold and calculating with a sinister smile, her laugh usually forced or at the very least, at someone else's expense.

Katherine certainly couldn't debate literature with him. She preferred to discuss her latest expensive purchase, her next modeling gig. Not that she wasn't intelligent. She was a gifted manipulator, talented at spinning any situation to leave her name free and clear. That was part of what made them such a power couple, her seductive, him ruthless at the negotiating table. They got what they wanted. Until she didn't want it anymore.

Damon shook his head under the shower spray. He couldn't, wouldn't, think about Katherine. Or his brother. Or their dead parents. He was going to get dressed, find some breakfast, avoid his brother and promptly at seven o'clock, he was going to take Elena Gilbert on a date. He'd figure out the rest later.

* * *

"Are you sure this looks okay?" Elena asked, studying herself in the full length mirror. "He didn't say where we were going, just to 'wear something pretty.'"

"You look hot," Caroline confirmed.

"I'm not sure hot is a good thing," Elena said, scrutinizing her appearance.

"That's the right dress," Bonnie said from her spot on the bed. "Damon will be eating out of the palm of your hand." Elena made a face.

"I'm not sure that's what I want. He doesn't need incentivizing."

"Have you _seen_ Damon Salvatore?" Caroline asked. She rummaged through the selection of jewelry laying on Elena's bed. "You do, in fact, want that."

"Caroline," Elena chided. "Tyler. Remember him?" Caroline just shrugged.

"I don't know," Bonnie said, picking up a bangle from the pile of jewelry and surveying it. "I have a good feeling about this." Both Caroline and Elena turned to look at her. "Not this one. It's too – plain. Wear the gold pave bracelet." She noticed then that her friends were looking at her. "What?"

"Is this another one of your hunches?" Caroline asked. Bonnie was infamous for her spurts of intuition, gut feelings about people and situations that tended to turn out exactly as she thought they would. It was scary, how accurate her hunches tended to be.

"I just think it's a good thing, Elena going out with Damon," Bonnie said with a shrug. "He's got a bad boy streak and Elena, I love you, but you could use a little danger in your life. You play it too safe."

"Again, you sound more like Caroline than Bonnie right now," Elena said. "I fully expected you to be the rational one and tell me how bad of an idea this is. And yet, you're encouraging me."

"I just want you to have some fun," Bonnie said. "Even if it's with Damon Salvatore."

"What does Stefan think of you going out with his brother?" Caroline asked. "Or does he know?" Elena sat down at her vanity and started to touch up her makeup.

"He knows," Elena confirmed. "Damon told him this morning. He called me this afternoon to ask if I knew what I was getting myself into."

"And do you?" Bonnie asked.

"Nope," Elena admitted. "But like I told Stefan, it's just dinner. And Damon doesn't even live here. He'll be gone back to New York, back to his life as big city sports agent, as soon as he can be. It can't hurt to have dinner with him while he's here."

"Free dinner," Caroline said with an appreciative nod. "I like your style, Elena Gilbert. No expectations." Bonnie didn't say anything. She picked up a pair of earrings and wordlessly passed them to Elena. Her gut told her, loud and clear, that this was going to be anything but just dinner.

* * *

Promptly at seven o'clock, Elena stepped out onto the porch with the intentions of waiting on the swing for Damon, only to find him already parked on the street, leaning against the same blue Camaro she vaguely remembered from her childhood. Instead of puffing on a cigarette like he did in her memories of him, he was merely watching her, his arms crossed over his chest.

Elena paused on the top step, just to take him in. He was wearing black jeans and a midnight blue dress shirt, a casual black sports jacket over it, and black Italian dress shoes. The color of his shirt made his vivid blue eyes stand out even more. She couldn't help but smile at her good fortune. She had no intentions – nor hopes – of anything long term with Damon, but she was certainly going to enjoy looking at him throughout dinner.

Damon felt his heart quicken when Elena stepped out onto her front porch. He'd arrived a few minutes early, mostly because he was bored at home, but also because he was admittedly looking forward to seeing Elena again. He'd intended to wait until seven o'clock, walk to Elena's door, and pick her up like a gentleman, but she had beat him to it. She was appraising him from her spot on the porch, but he didn't care. He was doing the same thing to her. She wore a simple blue sleeveless dress that fit her in all the right places and hit her at a length that showcased her toned legs. Her hair hung in loose waves, a departure from her usual straight locks, and flowed behind her as she descended the stairs and approached him. He pushed himself off his car to greet her, counting his lucky stars that he was the one she was going out with tonight.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi," she replied with a timid smile. "You got here early."

"I wanted to make a good impression," he replied smoothly. "You look beautiful, Elena." He felt a sense of accomplishment at the faint blush that crept into her cheeks.

"You cleaned up pretty well yourself," she told him. She looked past him towards his car. "I can't believe you still have that thing. I remember you driving it when I was in middle school." Damon glanced over his shoulder at his car, one of the few material possessions he owned that also contained sentimental value, and shrugged.

"It was my mom's," he explained. "I like to think of her as the coolest chick in town way back when, driving around in this thing." He'd never actually been given the car, but the day he'd turned 16 and got his license, he'd taken the keys from their place on the kitchen key rack and no one, not even his father, had questioned him. He had never quite understood why Giuseppe hadn't intervened. A 16 year old kid didn't have any business driving around in a muscle car. At 32, he still didn't have much business behind the wheel of it.

"She at least had their attention," Elena agreed with another glance at the car.

"You ready to go?" Damon asked.

"I am," Elena confirmed. Damon reached behind him and opened the passenger side door.

"Then your chariot awaits." Elena smiled at him before sliding into the car. It was spotless, the leather seats original, but still like new. It smelled like saddle soap, aftershave and something that was strictly vintage. The scent calmed her as Damon slipped in behind the wheel and cranked up the car. She could feel its power, just from the idling of the engine. It both scared her and thrilled her as she took in how comfortable Damon was behind the wheel.

"Where are we going?" she asked as he pulled away from the curb.

"Charlottesville," he said. "I figured our options were limited in Mystic Falls. I made reservations at a place called Maya. The offensive coordinator for UVA's football team recommended it."

"Offensive coordinator?"

"I'm after one of their seniors. Kid's going to be first round draft pick for sure."

"After him? As in to be his agent?"

"Yep," Damon confirmed. "He's not only a phenomenal athlete, he's also got this good guy thing going on – volunteers at the children's hospital, has a 4.0 in something besides art. He's an agent's dream – a big contract to play pro, endorsement deals, good PR. But that's enough about work. What'd you do today?"

Elena launched into a recap of her day and asked Damon about his as the car rumbled down Highway 29. The 45 minute drive went by in a flash and soon, they were being seated at their table. The restaurant was upscale but not stuffy, the lights dim, but the atmosphere warm. Damon pulled her chair out before seating himself and their waitress appeared almost immediately to fill water goblets and take drink orders. Damon looked at Elena and took a deep breath. There was something he needed to get off his chest before the night went any further.

"Elena, I want to apologize again for last night. About your parents. I didn't know they'd passed. I hope I didn't upset you." Elena gave him a soft smile. He was being genuine, looked anxious now that he had issued his apology.

"It's okay," She assured him, reaching out to touch his hand. The contact was brief, but it was enough to send a surge of electricity through both of them. "It's been a long time, Damon. I miss them every day, but I'm okay." Damon felt a surge of something – admiration, perhaps – at how strong she seemed to be. His own mother had died twenty-six years ago, but her death still caused him a tremendous amount of pain if he let himself think of her more than a brief moment once in a while.

"If you don't mind my asking, how long ago was the accident?"

"Ten years this past May," Elena answered. "Sometimes it feels like yesterday, other times it seems like it was a century ago."

"I know what you mean," Damon said more to himself than to Elena. The waitress reappeared with their drinks and they placed their orders after taking a few moments to browse the menu. "So Alaric is married to your Aunt Jenna?" he asked when the waitress left their table.

"He is," Elena confirmed. She remembered something about Damon then. "You and Ric were best friends, weren't you?" Damon shrugged.

"We were the best friends we knew how to be," he said. "Neither one of us were much on personal relationships, but we both liked fast cars, cigarettes and booze so we bonded." He purposefully left out that they had shared an affinity for loose women as well.

"His high school stories make me laugh," Elena said. "He's such a responsible adult now, teaching history, being a husband and a dad. It's hard to believe him when he talks about drag racing over by Oak Ridge or boxing in the gas station parking lot."

"What'd he tell you about the drag racing?" Damon asked curiously.

"That he won." Damon scoffed.

"Liar," he exclaimed. "I kicked his ass every single time he put his Mustang up against my Camaro."

"I'm going to tell him you said that." Elena's eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Please do," Damon told her. "I have a reputation to uphold." Elena rolled her eyes playfully. "He and Jenna have a daughter, right? He was telling me about her at Mystic Grill last night.'

"Ella," Elena confirmed. "She's two and my favorite person in the entire world."

"Beside me," Damon corrected with a grin.

"You're going to have to grow pig tails and wear monogrammed smock dresses before you take that position," she told him seriously.

"I'll see what I can do," Damon replied, making Elena laugh lightly. He decided right then and there that her laughter was the best thing he'd ever heard and made it his goal to hear it as much as possible. "You mentioned at the coffee shop the other day that you'd been to New York. When were you there?" Elena raised an eyebrow slightly, impressed that Damon seemed to remember every detail of their few conversations.

"I actually lived there," she told him. She watched as his eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Really?" She nodded her confirmation.

"I went to Columbia for undergrad, then I stayed for a while, working and writing. I've been back in Mystic Falls for about a year."

"You were in New York for the better part of the last decade?" he asked. "You should have looked me up. Granted, it took me until about three years ago to actually commit to one city, but I've been calling New York my home base for a while."

"Stefan told me I should call you a couple of times," Elena told him. "I think he even gave me your number once. I just never got around to it."

"Shame," Damon said with a shake of his head. "We could have done this a whole lot sooner." Elena smiled at him and decided it was her turn to ask the questions.

"How'd you get to be a sports agent?" she asked. Damon took a long swig of his drink, deciding to give her the brief, more PG version of how he'd ended up falling into a career he loved, despite a proper college education to prepare for it.

"Long story short, I was in the wrong place at the right time. A game of pool took a turn, I did some fast talking to get me and a buddy out of a tight spot. A guy that was an executive at a smaller firm overhead and persuaded me to come work for him. I took to it like fish to a water and here I am."

"Do you still work for him?" Damon shook his head.

"We parted ways about six months after I started working for him. Mutually. He was a good guy, just couldn't afford to keep me on. I went to work for one of the top firms in the industry, stayed with them a few years. I left last year to strike out on my own, took most of my clients with me. It keeps me busy, but it's nice, not having to give up part of my earnings to the firm or find someone to sign off on my decisions." Elena saw the passion in his eyes as he talked about his career. She found him all that more attractive.

"You love it," she stated.

"I do," he confirmed, leaning in. "And you, Elena, lied to me." Elena frowned.

"About what?" she asked.

"I asked if you'd written anything I might have read. You said no. But it turns out, I read this great book, _Turning Home, _while on a flight to London for an NFL international game between the Steelers and Vikings." Just as he'd suspected she would, Elena blushed and busied herself with the bread basket that had arrived sometime during their conversation.

"You read that?" she asked timidly.

"Given the 'New York Times bestseller' stamp on the cover, I'd say a lot more people than just me read it."

"It's not that great," Elena said with a shake of her head. Damon reached across the table and mimicked her move from earlier, lightly putting his hand on top of hers.

"Elena, it was fantastic," he said truthfully. "I really enjoyed it. So much so that I borrowed Stefan's copy to read again."

"Thank you," Elena said softly. He had removed his hand, but hers was still on fire from his touch. "Despite my whole 'it's not that great' thing, I really am proud of it. But how did you figure out I'd written a book?"

"Stefan," Damon answered. He looked slightly guilty. "I wanted to read some of those articles you mentioned before tonight and so I asked him if he had any laying around. He turned up a little while later with a couple of magazines and a book with your name on the spine. Although I couldn't help but notice he has a signed copy which means I will be purchasing a copy of my own to have you autograph. Can't let little brother one up me in the literature department." Elena shook her head, but was grinning.

"How'd you end up back in Mystic Falls?" Damon asked. "Not exactly the same vibe as New York."

"It might sound crazy to you, but I missed this place," Elena said. "Its home, you know? I loved New York. It was big, and loud and creative and inspired me. But what family I have is here. My parents are buried here. After a while, New York went from being one big adventure, to one big hassle. After my book did so well, I decided it was time to move back here, reconnect with my old life. We all kept in touch – my family, my friends – but we went our separate ways after high school. Funny, really, how we all ended up back here."

Damon looked at Elena contemplatively. Just as she had called him out on how much he loved his career, he could tell she loved Mystic Falls. It was her home. It triggered something down deep inside him. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but it was a foreign emotion he added to his shelf of feelings to deal with later.

"Have you ever eaten at that tiny sushi place between Houston and Bleecker in Greenwich Village?" Elena asked.

From there, the conversation flowed, Elena telling Damon about all of her favorite New York haunts, many of which he frequented himself, Damon telling her stories from his travels to various pro sporting events across the country and in a few instances, the world. They talked and ate, Elena teasing Damon for ordering an extra side of the white cheddar grits which he defended by saying he only got proper grits while in the South. Too soon, Damon was paying their bill and they were back in his car heading home. Somewhere along the way, Damon had found her hand in his, their interlocked hands resting on the console between them.

"Stefan must really be glad to have you home," Elena commented.

"More like eager to see me on a plane bound for La Guardia," Damon replied. There was something in his voice that Elena couldn't place, a mixture of tension and disappointment.

"I'm sure that's not the case," Elena said, even though she knew Stefan and Damon didn't have the best relationship. Stefan didn't talk about his brother much, didn't indulge in sharing why their relationship was so strained, but Elena couldn't accept that they didn't care for one another at all. They were family, after all. Brothers.

"Stefan and I lead very different lives," Damon explained. "He's straight laced, always has been. I got in my fair share of trouble growing up – and if I'm being honest, I kept it up once I left here. He and I will never see eye to eye on pretty much anything." Elena nodded and let the topic drop.

"So how long are you planning on being in town?"

She hadn't actually meant to ask the question. She'd gone into the date knowing Damon was essentially just passing through. But it had been a really long time since she'd been as drawn to a member of the opposite sex as she was to Damon. Even as she told herself getting too close was a bad idea, it was like something inside of her – and out of her control – was pushing her towards Damon.

"I don't know, another couple weeks or so," Damon said, his eyes on the road. He couldn't believe the words coming out of his mouth. It was Wednesday. The reading of the will was set for a week from now and he'd been planning to hop on a plane northbound as soon as it was over. But now, he felt less in a hurry, less compelled to get back to the city. He wasn't sure he liked it, the seemingly waning pull of the city, but the idea of staying in Mystic Falls even a few minutes past his initial departure plan didn't seem like the worst thing in the world at the moment.

The Gilbert house appeared in front of them as they turned a corner. It was dark, but the porch light burned bright. He pulled to a stop in front of her house and cut the engine. He absentmindedly grazed the back of her hand with his thumb.

"Here we are," he said. Elena smiled at him.

"Thank you," she said. "For tonight. I had fun." Damon lifted her hand and pressed his lips to the back of it.

"Of course," he said. He took just a brief moment to take her in once more before he relinquished himself to the fact that it was time to part ways. "Let me walk you to your door."

"You don't have…"

"Elena," Damon cut her off. "I'm walking you to your door." With that, he was out of the car and pulling open the passenger door for her. He offered his hand and felt both the increasingly familiar electricity shoot through him and a sense of relief that her hand was back in his. He placed her hand at his elbow and walked her down the sidewalk as chivalrously as he knew how to do. At the top of her porch stairs, they turned to one another.

"Thank you again," she said. Damon gave her a soft smile and shook his head slightly.

"Anytime," he told her. He reached out and brushed a lock of hair away from her face. If she was any other woman, he'd already have her pressed up against her front door, aiming to be invited inside. But Elena commanded his respect, even though he knew she was completely unaware of it.

Elena looked up at him, trying in vain to decipher what he was thinking. She could tell there was more to his story just below the surface and she found herself wanting to know it. She also desperately wanted him to kiss her as her dark eyes landed on his.

"I should be thanking you," he said. "It's been a while since I had the pleasure of spending time with someone not only beautiful, but intelligent and kind as well." He could hardly believe the words that had just came out of his mouth. They were true, but he wasn't one to say things like that, particularly when he planned on sleeping alone in his own bed that night.

"Now who's the liar?" she asked him with a coy smile. He chuckled lightly.

"It's true," he told her. Her hand still in his, he gently pulled her closer and slipped his free arm around her waist. Both of their bodies hummed at their proximity. Before he could stop himself, he leaned down and touched his lips cautiously to hers.

Without warning, fire erupted somewhere deep inside him. He kept himself in check, even as he deepened the kiss and pulled Elena closer, but he knew this kiss was different. Different how, he wasn't sure, but instinct told him Elena Gilbert possessed the power to bring him to his knees. He made himself pull away after a few long moments, determined not to take it as far as he wanted to.

"Goodnight, Elena," he whispered huskily, his forehead resting against hers.

"Goodnight, Damon," she replied, a slight shake in her voice as she tried to catch her breath. Damon placed one last gentle kiss on her forehead before letting her go.

"I'll see you soon," he told her as he stepped way.

"See you soon," Elena echoed. She turned away then, fumbling with her keys as Damon's footsteps descended her porch stairs. She had managed to unlock the door and was just about to let herself in when she heard Damon's voice again.

"_Gone With The Wind." _

Elena turned to see Damon standing halfway down her sidewalk, his hands in the pocket of his sports jacket, the scene reminiscent of the night before when he'd asked her out. "What?"

"_Gone With The Wind," _he repeated. "You asked me last night what my favorite book was. It's _Gone With The Wind." _Elena smiled.

"Really?" she asked. "Why?" Damon shook his head with his infamous smirk in place.

"I'm going to need a second date before I tell you that." Elena's laugh accompanied him as he made his way to his car. Once he was sure she was safely inside – which wasn't until an upstairs light came on – he pulled away from the curve, a wide smile on his face.

* * *

**As much as I'm loving writing Damon and Elena's story, I'm also loving writing out Damon and Stefan's. Those two have a lot of issues to work through. **

**I'd love to know what you thought of their first date! Look for the next update - one of my favorite chapters so far - sometime over the weekend!**


	5. Assumptions

**At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I'm amazed at how supportive everyone has been. All the reviews so far are just blowing my mind. I'm writing this between a busy job and lots of Junior League activities, not to mention things like eating, sleeping and playing with my puppy, and without a beta so it means all that much more. Thank you so much for all of your comments and support. It's inspiring. **

**This is a bit of a filler chapter following their date, yet still important. Enjoy! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

"Dish," Caroline demanded. She was sitting on the floor of Elena's living room which had become littered with wedding magazines, invitation samples and photos of cakes immediately upon her arrival. Elena vaguely wondered if Tyler Lockwood knew what he was getting himself into.

"Why are you here again?" Elena asked her, taking in the sight before her.

"You went on a date last night," Caroline informed her. "And not just _a _date – a date with Damon Salvatore. Did you really think I wasn't going to show up on your doorstep begging for details first thing this morning?"

"Before nine o'clock and with a box of wedding plans? I can honestly say that's one scenario I didn't think up."

"Whatever," Caroline said with a wave of her hand. "I'm dying over here, Elena. Where did he take you? What was he like? Oh! Did he kiss you?" She was practically bouncing with excitement. "What do you think of this one?" she added, passing Elena an ivory and gold invitation on thick parchment paper.

"Why don't we wait for Bonnie to get off work? Then I can tell you both," she said. "And I like this one okay, but I liked the one you showed me before I even let you in better."

"It's like, eight forty-five, Elena," Caroline said, taking back the sample and placing it in a pile she had designated for the 'maybes.' "It will be _hours _before Bonnie is done for the day and I can't wait that long." Elena sighed, knowing there was no way she was going to escape Caroline, especially when she had apparently set up shop at her place for the day.

"Fine," she relented, standing from where she'd been sitting in an old but comfortable armchair. "But I'm getting coffee first."

"Bring me some!" Caroline called after her as she exited the room.

Elena padded down the hall to the kitchen. She was still floating from last night, her lips still stinging from the feel of Damon's against them. She hadn't expected to have such a great time, to leave the date wanting to see him again. And yet that was exactly what had happened and the thought scared her. He wasn't the kind of guy she was supposed to like. He was wrong for her in so many ways and yet she couldn't help but wonder, deep down, if he was exactly what she needed. She quickly made two cups of coffee, one to her liking and another to Caroline's, and returned to the living room.

"Does Tyler get a say in any of this stuff?" she asked as she passed Caroline her coffee and returned to her armchair. She curled her legs under her, content to resign herself to girl talk with one of her oldest and closest friends.

"Sort of. I show him what I like and convince him he likes it too. He feels involved, I get my dream wedding. It's a win-win. But we can talk about my wedding plans later. Tell me about this date." Elena couldn't stop the wide grin that spread across her face. Caroline squealed. "I knew it!" she exclaimed. "As soon as Bonnie said she had a good feeling, I knew you'd be smiling today! Tell me!"

"He was – surprisingly – sweet," Elena said. Damon's gentlemanly behavior had been one of the things that had thrown her off. She'd expected to fight off his forward advances most the night. "He picked me up right on time – actually got here early. He was waiting when I stepped out onto the porch. He took me to Charlottesville to this place called Maya…"

"I love that place!" Caroline interrupted. "Carol took Tyler and me there a few weeks ago."

"The food was great," Elena agreed. "And I don't know, Damon… He surprised me. I was expecting him to be forward, sleazy, even, given how he acted at the repass and some of the comments he made at the coffee shop. But then he walked me home the other night and started talking about literature and last night, he just seemed so much – more."

"More?" Caroline prompted. Elena took a dreg from her mug.

"There's more to him then the swaggering playboy he shows the world," Elena said, sure of her assumption. She'd had time to think on her suspicions that there was more to Damon just below the surface and was surer than ever that the clipped bad boy demeanor was a carefully crafted cover. "He knows literature. Better than I do, maybe. He absolutely lit up when he talked about his job. He mentioned his mom once or twice too with this sort of wistful tone in is voice. The only time he acted off was when I said something about Stefan being glad he was home." Caroline was grinning like Christmas had come early.

"Elena Gilbert," she stated. "I believe you have a crush on Damon Salvatore."

"I…" Elena was about to argue to the contrary but knew it would only be a lie. "I think I might," she amended, eliciting a squeal of excitement from Caroline. "He's even read my book. He asked Stefan if he had anything I'd written and when Stefan handed him a copy of _Turning Home, _he realized he'd read it."

"I told you not to use 'E.I. Gilbert' as your professional name," Caroline chided. "He would have already known you wrote it the moment he met you."

"Not important," Elena said. "And besides, it's just a crush, for lack of a better word. He lives in New York. His entire life is in New York. This isn't going to go anywhere."

"His brother lives here," Caroline pointed out. "His family home is here, his parents are buried here. Who's to say he's not getting tired of the big city? Kind of like you did."

"He's not getting tired of New York. He loves New York. And I'm pretty sure there's no love lost between him and Stefan. Damon is just here because he has to be. He'll be gone in a couple of weeks, tops." Caroline shook her head, not agreeing.

"We'll see," she said. "Personally, I trust Bonnie." Elena rolled her eyes. "Are you going to see him again?"

"Maybe," Elena said with a shrug. "He mentioned a second date, but I realized after he left that I don't have his number – and I'm pretty sure he doesn't have mine."

"Well, Stefan has both of your numbers," Caroline said brightly. "You're one of Stefan's best friends, Damon is his brother… Use that to your advantage. And help me narrow down these invitation samples to just three before we start putting together the grab bags for the festival." Elena frowned.

"Grab bags?" she asked.

"They're in my car," Caroline said with a coy grin. "Hope you don't have a deadline today."

"I wish I did."

* * *

Damon was back in his favorite spot on the couch, sprawled across it as he blew through the pages of Elena's book, finding it even better than he remembered, although he had a feeling that had something to do with thoughts of his lips against hers. He was so into the story unfolding that he didn't hear Stefan enter the house until he was standing over him at the end of the couch. He look up and took in the dark circles under Stefan's eyes, his messy hair and rumpled scrubs. He was fairly sure there was also a blood stain on his left shoulder.

"You look like hell."

"I've been at the hospital for 36 hours," Stefan answered. "I ended my shift by losing a four year old gunshot victim. I'm allowed to look like hell." He fell into a nearby armchair. "And don't give me crap for being here instead of at my place in Charlottesville. Rebekah and I have plans with Caroline and Tyler later." Damon grinned.

"There's the little brother I like," he said. "Bitchy Stefan is so much more fun than Broody Stefan or Insightful Stefan." Stefan shot him a dirty look and was about to retort with something about Damon's own charm, but his eyes fell on the book Damon was holding.

"You're reading Elena's book?"

"Re-reading Elena's book," Damon clarified. "I read it on a flight to London last year."

"How did your date go?" Stefan asked curiously.

"Well," Damon replied. He wasn't a girl. He wasn't going to gush about how beautiful Elena had looked, how smart she was or how she had made him feel like the luckiest guy in the world, just because she was letting him be seen with her.

"That's all I'm getting?" Stefan pushed.

"It went well. I didn't sleep with her. I plan on seeing her again. There's the abridged version."

"I'm not sure what's more surprising – that you didn't sleep with her or that you plan on seeing her again." A thought occurred to Stefan. "You tried to sleep with her and she turned you down," he guessed. "Now you see her as another conquest." Damon let the book drop to his chest and looked at Stefan with disgust.

"No," he said. "I didn't try to sleep with her. As hard as it may be to believe, I was the perfect gentleman. I took her to dinner, opened doors, pulled out her chair, paid. And then I walked her to her door, gave her a very PG-13 kiss goodnight while a much more adult version played out in my head, and made sure she got inside safely. Give me some credit, brother."

"There's credit and then there's you," Stefan said pointedly. "You plan on seeing her again?"

"What's with the interrogation?" Damon countered "You dated her back in the day. Still hung up on her despite the hot Brit?"

"Her name is Rebekah. Stop referring to her as the 'hot Brit.' As for Elena, she is no more than a good friend," Stefan said honestly. "Which is the cause for the interrogation. I don't want her to get hurt."

"It was one date," Damon said, growing irritated. "Not a marriage proposal."

Deciding he was too tired to deal with Damon right then, Stefan pushed himself out of the chair and started towards the stairs to take a nap before he had to get ready for dinner. "Just be careful with her," he said as he passed by Damon's couch. "She's a good person who deserves to be happy. Don't lead her on."

Damon didn't say anything as Stefan climbed the stairs. He knew Elena was a good person. He wanted to see her again and had even ventured to the coffee shop earlier that day in hopes of running into her as he'd realized he'd forgotten to get her phone number. He just had to figure out how he wasn't going to lead her to on. His life was in New York now. Mystic Falls was his past, now more so than ever.

* * *

It was closing in on 48 hours since he'd last seen Elena.

After spending the day following their date re-reading her book, he had woken up the next morning determined to get in touch with her. He knew how women worked and he was closing in on his allotted time to call her after a date before she would blow him off. He'd intended to con her number out of Stefan, but then he had stumbled in late with Rebekah. The two had clearly had too many spirits with dinner and only had eyes for one another, giving Damon a reason to be proud of his little brother.

He'd resigned himself to getting Elena's number from him in the morning, only to have woken up to find Rebekah fixing herself a to-go cup of coffee in the kitchen. She'd let him know Stefan was already at the hospital, wished him a happy Friday and headed off to work or wherever she'd been going. He'd tuned her out after she'd revealed Stefan's whereabouts, only to realize too late that she likely had Elena's number and he could have gotten it out of her without Stefan's nosey questions.

His only option now was to accidentally on purpose run into Elena. He had managed it twice – at the coffee shop and again at The Grill – so surely it wouldn't be that hard to do again, given that she worked on her own schedule and had outright told him over dinner that the coffee shop was her favorite place to waste away a day of writing. After a shower, he'd left the boarding house on a mission.

He'd started at the coffee shop. He needed his morning cup of coffee and a muffin anyway and so he had dined in, hoping Elena would walk arrive, her laptop bag over her shoulder. She hadn't and so after he'd sat as long as he could without ordering yet another cup of coffee, he'd wandered around the town square, taking a conference call and responding to emails. He managed to lock down a minor endorsement deal for a third basemen for the Washington Nationals while sitting on a park bench, something that amused him as he usually made those things happen from his office or at the very least, a working lunch or from the Bluetooth in his car. It hadn't been all that lucrative, but the guy was better than the team he was on and when he inevitable landed with a better team during free agency next season, that deal would be a jumping off point. Baby steps, as he'd told the third baseman.

For lunch, he'd popped into a deli and then made his way back to the coffee shop for dessert and an afternoon shot of caffeine. There was still no Elena, much to his disappointment. He'd returned to the Boarding House for a while where he'd done some more work, thinking he should have taken his laptop to the coffee shop and made like Elena for the day. When it was an acceptable time for dinner, he headed to The Grill where he not only didn't see Elena, he didn't see anyone that he knew well enough to ask for her phone number.

Which is why, at nearly nine o'clock at night, he was standing on Elena's porch, knocking on her door. He hadn't exactly wanted to turn up out of the blue, but, judging solely on his previous experience with women, if he wanted any chance at a second date, he needed to make contact sooner rather than later. If this was a romantic comedy or a Nichols Sparks movie, this would should count as a grand gesture. He was thinking up a good opening line when the door swung open. He opened his mouth, ready to say the first thing that came to mind, but shut it quickly. Alaric standing in front of him instead of Elena.

"Ric," he said, confused. He'd expected Elena as it was, but Alaric would classify as one of the last people he'd expect to open the door.

"Damon," Alaric greeted, equally confused as to why Damon Salvatore was on his doorstep so late. "What brings you by?"

"Who is it?" came a voice. A moment later, Jenna appeared behind Alaric. "Damon! Hi. What a surprise."

"Hello, Jenna," he replied. She was smiling, but he wasn't blind to the suspicious look she had in her eyes.

"I'm sorry I didn't get to say hello at your father's funeral," she said. "I was able to speak to Stefan, but ty daughter was getting cranky so we left once the service was over." Damon held up a hand and shook his head.

"Don't apologize," he said. "Thanks for being there." He felt proud of himself for being polite instead of making a sarcastic comment about his dead father. "I'm sorry to stop by so late, but I was looking for Elena." Alaric and Jenna exchanged looks.

"She's probably at home," Jenna said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Damon furrowed his brow.

"Home?" he repeated. "I thought this was her home." Alaric grinned, connecting the dots faster than his wife and certainly faster than Damon who was operating solely on assumption.

"Elena lives out at the lake," he explained. "Her parents had a house out there. When she moved back from New York, she chose the, to quote, 'peace, tranquility and mountain views' of the lake. But since it's an hour or so out, she stays here fairly often."

"Oh," Damon said, feeling foolish. "I just assumed…"

"Well, you know what they say about people who assume…," Ric said, his grin growing in amusement.

"Aren't you a comedian," Damon grumbled.

"I'll let her know you stopped by," Jenna said with a kind smile that still didn't match her eyes. Damon nodded his thanks, just as the sound of a child crying filtered down the stairs. Jenna and Alaric both sighed. "I've got her," Jenna said, already turning away from the door. "Kid battles sleep like it's the final round of the Ultimate Fighting Championships. Good seeing you, Damon."

"I hope I didn't wake her," Damon said. Alaric shook his head.

"Nah. Like Jenna said, Ella's the master at fighting sleep. It's impressive, really. We've been taking turns putting her back in bed for the last two hours. The good news is, she's crying. Crying usually means she's minutes away from passing out."

"Parenthood," Damon said with a shrug, even though it was something he couldn't relate to. "I should get going. Sorry again for stopping by so late. If you could make sure Jenna follows up on that whole telling Elena I stopped by thing…" Alaric stepped out onto the porch and closed the door behind him.

"Jenna will conveniently forget," he told Damon. "Seems she remembers you from our teenage days."

"And doesn't want me anywhere near her niece," Damon finished. "Not like I've never heard that before." Alaric chuckled as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and unlocked the screen.

"I'm going to guess you don't have Elena's phone number if you're showing up on doorsteps at nine o'clock at night."

"Guilty," Damon admitted. His phone chimed in his pocket. He'd planned to ignore it for the moment, but Alaric nodded towards him.

"Might want to check that," he said. With a raised eyebrow at Alaric, he pulled out his phone to find a new text message from a Virginia number. It contained a phone number. "I saved your number from that fancy business card you gave me. I've been meaning to call you about another round of drinks but haven't had a chance."

"Ric, my friend, assuming this is actually Elena's phone number, the first round – maybe even the first three – is on me," Damon said. He pocketed the phone and clapped Alaric on the shoulder.

"I assure you it's actually her number," Ric said. "Don't make me regret giving you that."

"I won't make a promise I can't keep, but I'll see what I can do," Damon replied. "Let's get that drink soon."

"Soon," Alaric confirmed. "Good seeing you, Damon. Even if you were looking for my niece." With a salute and a smirk, Damon made his way back down the sidewalk, removing his phone as he went. He perched on the hood of his car and before he could talk himself out of it, opened Ric's text message and tapped Elena's phone number to call her. She answered after three rings.

"Hello?"

"I'll have you know I spent my entire day trying to accidentally on purpose run into you all over Mystic Falls," he said into the phone. "In a desperate move, I knocked on the door of your house a few short minutes ago, only to be greeted by the Saltzman family and learn that you actually live in the middle of nowhere." Elena laughed on her end of the phone.

"You were trying to run into me?" she asked.

"You see, it seems I forgot to get your phone number the other night. I was too busy being captivated by your charms to think of such mundane things."

"It seems you were successful in acquiring it."

"I now owe Ric round of bourbon, but yes, I was successful. He even gave it to me out of the goodness of his heart."

"Sure you didn't trick it out of him?" Elena asked. "Hypnotize him or threaten him with telling the whole town that his drag racing stories are all built on lies?"

"Those stories aren't so much based on lies as they are twisted in fact," Damon said. "But no, I didn't trick him. Thanks for the drag racing idea though. I'm going to keep that one in my back pocket, just in case." Elena laughed again, causing him to smile.

"Well, you do always get what you want," she said, teasing him.

"I do," he confirmed. "Which is why I'm calling. I want to see you." There was a pause on Elena's end and just as Damon prepared to backpedal, realizing his comment was more suggestive than what would fly with Elena, she replied.

"Do you run?" she asked. For the second time in ten minutes, Damon scrunched his face up in confusion.

"Do I run?" he repeated.

"Yeah, you know – run, jog, get in your cardio, whatever you New Yorkers call it. You seem to be in pretty good shape so I'm assuming you work out."

"But Elena, you haven't seen me without a shirt on. How would you know what's underneath?"

"Ha ha," Elena said. "Seriously, do you run?"

"Turns out I do," Damon confirmed. "Usually through Central Park, but I've had to make do with the treadmill in the boarding house's basement as of late."

"Meet me tomorrow at the south entrance of the McIntire Greenway. Be there at 6AM sharp, or I'm leaving without you."

"6AM?" Damon repeated. "That's not even a real time." He'd seen 6AM plenty of times, had caught many an early flight. But he couldn't recall the last time he'd seen it from any other angle than still being up from the night before.

"It is a very real time and it is the time I'll be going for my morning run," Elena told him. "Be there or be square."

"That's the trail out by Hickory Creek, right?" He vaguely remember seeing a sign when he was driving in from the airport.

"One in the same," Elena confirmed. Damon did the math and realized he'd have to leave his house by no later than 5:30 to make it on time. Then another thought struck him.

"Elena, you don't run that trail by yourself do you?"

"All the time," she said. "And spare me the lecture about running through the woods by myself at the break of day. Ric, Jenna, Jeremy and pretty much all of my friends have beat you to it – more than once. I have pepper spray and I took a self-defense class."

"You shouldn't be running through the woods by yourself," Damon said anyway. "It's not only dangerous, it's dumb. But don't worry. You won't be by yourself tomorrow because I'll be with you."

"If you can keep up," Elena quipped.

"Oh I can keep up," Damon promised. "It's you I'm worried about."

"A wooded trail is very different from a treadmill or even Central Park. You're the one that should be worried." Damon just chuckled. "I'm going to turn in if I'm going to be outrunning you so early in the morning. I'll see you tomorrow – if you make it."

"I'll be there," Damon confirmed. "Get your rest, Elena. You're going to need it."

* * *

**I think you'll really love the next couple of updates. Lots of Damon and Elena. And by proxy, lots of attraction. **

**Let me know what you think!**


	6. Carnival

**This Valentine's Day, I give you the longest update to date! I'm having so much fun writing out this version of Elena and Damon's story. Even the not so rosy parts... But I think you'll like this one. I sure do! **

**Thank you so much for reading. I'm writing for fun and the fact that so many of you are enjoying it blows my mind. Imagine my surprise when I logged in and saw so many reviews for the last chapter. Mind blowing for sure! **

**Fun fact - I took one of my favorite greenways and one of my favorite hiking trails and meddled them together for the first part of this update. I have very vivid pictures in my head, hence all the details. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

He considered it a personal victory when he arrived at the small parking lot at the greenway's entrance approximately five minutes before six. He had set his alarm for five to allow for a couple punches of the snooze button, but had hopped out of bed almost as soon as his alarm sounded. He would deny it if anyone asked, but he was sure the fact that he was looking forward to seeing Elena had a lot to do with why he'd forgone the snooze button in favor of starting his day. A small, blue SUV was already in the lot and a moment after he pulled into a parking spot, Elena got out of it.

"You're early," she greeted.

"Rest assured, I'm just as shocked as you are," he replied. His eyes raked over her body. She was wearing running tights and a light zip up jacket, her hair in a high ponytail. She didn't wear a stitch of makeup. He couldn't think of a time where he'd seen a woman look as beautiful as she did right then. She bent her leg at the knee and reached behind her to grab her ankle to stretch her quads.

"You should stretch," she directed.

"Yes, boss," Damon said with a mock salute, mimicking her. As he did so, he took in their surroundings. Their vehicles were the only ones in the lot. The trail started a few feet from where Elena had parked and disappeared into the woods, trees lining each side of it heavily. He could hear a creek somewhere nearby. It was remote and isolated and he didn't like it.

"We're going to have a serious talk about you running out here by yourself," he informed Elena. She rolled her eyes as she stretched her legs.

"I told you, I've had this lecture. I'm a big girl. I can take care of myself."

"You're what? 5'4" and a 100 pounds soaking wet? Forget a crazed hiker looking for a victim. You'd make a decent meal for a mountain lion."

"You're overreacting," Elena told him. She moved to stretch her arms out.

"You have no regards for your personal safety," Damon countered, pulling his arm across his chest as he stretched his shoulders.

"Agree to disagree," Elena said, letting her arm fall to her side. "You ready?"

"Ladies first," Damon said, motioning towards the trail opening. Elena gave him a brief nod and started off at a light job. Damon fell in beside her, letting her set the pace. They didn't talk as they transitioned from a slow jog to a brisker pace, following along the trail that seemed to grow more beautiful with each turn, particularly when there was a view of the creek.

They clocked a mile and then another. By the third one, Damon was starting to wonder just how far Elena planned to run. He'd thought he was in good shape – better than good, even – but as the trail twisted and turned, climbed upwards and then down, he started to second guess just how good his morning runs were doing him. His legs were burning and his lungs were starting to scream for air when Elena slowed her pace.

"Cool down mile," she told him with a smirk, seemingly barely winded. She could tell he was making every attempt to hide just how much effort he was having to put into keeping up with her.

"Don't stop on my account," he countered, except it came out far more breathy than Elena's words had. She laughed and turned her attention back to the trail ahead. Not soon enough for Damon, the trail opened up and he could see their cars, still the only ones in the lot. He got an idea. "Race you," he said before taking off at a sprint.

"Hey!" Elena called after him, breaking into a flat out run behind him. Damon easily beat her to the parking lot and turned to reach out and grab her just as she came towards him. "You cheated!" she gasped, as Damon's arms circled her. She rested her hands on his biceps.

"I did not cheat," he said. "I merely took an advantage."

"Or you were about to drop dead and wanted to save face," Elena said, calling him out. Damon's smirk told her she was right. He somewhat unwillingly let go of her and leaned against her SUV.

"Join me for breakfast?" he asked. "It's the least you can do after subjecting me to the wild." To his dismay, Elena shook her head.

"I can't," she said. "I promised Caroline I'd help her with the festival. I need to shower and meet her by nine o'clock, sharp. And I can promise you, I don't want to be late."

"You are a very hard woman to track down," he told her. "I had to chase you through the woods for miles just to see you." Elena grinned.

"Tell you what," she said. "Show up at the festival tonight. And then try to accidentally on purpose run into me." Damon smirked.

"You make that sound like a challenge." Elena winked at him.

"It is."

* * *

"Muffin before you go?" Jenna asked, holding out a freshly baked blueberry muffin as Elena entered the kitchen.

"Please," Elena said, accepting the muffin from her aunt. She found a thermos and started fixing herself coffee to go. "I'm going to need all the help I can get if I'm going to put up with Caroline in full dictator mode all day. Carbs and caffeine is as good of a place to start as any."

"Caroline can be intense when there's an event in her charge," Jenna agreed. "It's what makes her so good at her job."

"An event planner who is planning her own wedding," Elena pointed out. "Poor Tyler." Jenna laughed. "Where's Ric and Ella? They were watching cartoon when I got here but it's too quiet for them to still be in this house."

"I sent them to the store," Jenna said. "I still need to bake a few more dozen cupcakes for the church's booth tonight and I ran out of some of my ingredients – which is why I was only up baking until midnight last night until two or three in the morning."

"Caroline?" Elena guessed.

"Yep," Jenna confirmed, sliding onto a barstool across from where Elena stood at the kitchen island. "So, Damon Salvatore showed up here last night. Looking for you." She'd intended to conveniently let the fact that he'd stopped by slip her mind, but she knew her husband would tell Elena, given that he appeared to be Team Damon. And she really wanted to know what was going on between her niece and Mystic Falls' once resident bad boy. Elena looked at Jenna over her coffee mug, unable to stop the small smile that formed on her lips.

"I know," she said. Jenna raised an eyebrow.

"And?"

"And what?"

"And what is the story there? Why was Damon standing on my doorstep at nine o'clock last night under the impression that you live here?"

"He walked me home Tuesday night," Elena confessed. "When I stayed here so I didn't have to drive back to the lake after having dinner with my friends." She broke off a piece of her muffin. "And then he picked me up here the next night for a date." She quickly popped the muffin piece into her mouth.

"What?" Jenna screeched. "You went on a date with Damon Salvatore?"

"I did," Elena confirmed. "And it was a surprisingly fun night."

"Elena, I love you and I'm all for you dating. You know I've tried to set you up with every decent single guy I know. But Damon? Really?"

"I know," Elena admitted. "He can come across as a complete jerk…"

"Do you want me to recount his high school record?" Jenna interrupted. "From what I've heard, not much has changed."

"But…," Elena continued with a warning look at her aunt. "There's something about him. I don't buy the tough guy act. I don't completely buy the good guy hidden underneath that cool exterior act either, but there's just something about him. What, I don't know."

"He's gorgeous," Jenna said as though that was the obvious answer. "It's easy to let those eyes and that hair distract you."

"He is gorgeous," Elena agreed. She broke off another piece of her muffin. "He went running with me this morning. Lectured me about running the McIntire Greenway by myself."

"Well, it is stupid," Jenna told her pointedly. Elena rolled her eyes. "I just don't want to see you to get hurt, Elena. And Damon is a heartbreaker. Always has been, always will be." Elena took that as her cue to gather her things to leave.

"He's not going to break my heart," she told her aunt. "He's only here for a couple of weeks. I'm just going to have fun while he's here. Enjoy the view, so to speak."

"I'll remind you you said that when you're crying on my doorstep," Jenna replied. Elena gave her a sarcastic smile and headed for the door.

* * *

Damon idly walked through the town square, his eyes peeled for Elena as he took in the scene unfolding around him. He could remember the same festival, celebrating the end of summer, from his childhood. He never understood why they welcomed fall. It was full of death and dying. Everything that was once full of life shriveled and died, sometimes overnight if the first frost came too early. At least it brought football season. That was its sole saving grace.

He could admit that Caroline Forbes had outdone herself. Every sort of booth, activity and carnival ride stereotypical to a small town festival filled the square. All around him, people were enjoying themselves, standing in line for the merry go 'round, catching up with neighbors or eating something fried. And none of them were Elena. He did, however, spy Ric and Jenna manning the church's booth. Ric, he noted, looked less than thrilled, an observation that brought him a certain level of amusement. He changed course and headed in their direction.

"Ric," he greeted. "Jenna."

"Damon, my man," Ric replied. He offered his hand and Damon shook head.

"Hello, Damon," Jenna replied with some measure of forced politeness. "Nice to see you again."

"Likewise, Jenna," he said. A family with a herd of kids approached the booth which, Damon realized involved allowing them to decorate their own cupcakes. He turned to Ric. "Having fun?" he asked with a smirk.

"Bite me," Alaric muttered.

"Language," Damon chided. "This is the church booth, after all."

"Wonder you didn't burst into flames when you got within ten yard of it then."

"Holy water must be faulty," Damon quipped. Alaric laughed and Damon grinned.

"You get in touch with Elena last night?" Alaric asked.

"I did," Damon confirmed. "Although it resulted in me getting up at the ass crack of dawn to run a thousand miles through the middle of Deliverance. Speaking of, why do you let her run that greenway by herself? Have you been up there? There's nothing around for miles."

"I've been there," Ric confirmed. "And I know. But she's stubborn. To use her favorite line, she's a big girl, at the end of the day. I don't have to like it, but I can't stop her." Damon grumbled something under his breath that sounded an awful lot like "then I will" to Alaric.

"You seen her around?" Damon asked, trying to sound casual.

"Last time I saw her, she was headed towards the games," he said, giving Damon a knowing look. "And if you happen to find her, she has my daughter with her."

"I won't corrupt your toddler, promise," Damon said, already moving to head off in the direction of the carnival games.

"It's not my toddler I'm worried about."

Damon chuckled as he walked away, the sound of Jenna's voice calling for Ric to help with her large group meeting his ears. He weaved through the crowd, his eyes skimming over the duck pond, the balloon dart toss and a clown making balloon animals. He stopped in his tracks when his eyes landed on Elena at the milk bottle pyramid.

She was taking three softballs from a carnival worker, her attention more on her niece, a miniature replica of Jenna, than the man who was not blind to her looks. She was beautiful, her long hair falling around her. She was wearing a pair of dark wash jeans that hit low on her hips and a simple black, lace tank top. He watched, a grin on his face, as she took up her stance to throw the first ball. She missed the stack of milk bottles by inches. She threw the second one, taking out the very top bottle. With the third, she managed to knock down a couple more, earning a small stuffed animal which she happily passed off to her niece who looked at the big stuffed bears wistfully even as she muttered a thank you to her aunt.

"You throw like a girl, Gilbert," he called out, starting towards her. She turned at the sound of his voice and her eyes lit up when they landed on him. He tried to ignore the stutter of his heart as it recovered from missing a beat.

"Think you can do better, Salvatore?" she asked. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a five dollar bill, held it up where he could see.

"Matter of fact, I do," he said as he stalked towards her.

"Then step up to the plate," she retorted. "Prove you picked up something besides a paycheck from all those pro athletes you hang around with." He was next to her now, his lips inches from hers.

"Game on, Gilbert."

She smirked despite the flash of heat that washed over her at his proximity and passed the bill over to the attendant who handed her three balls in return. Damon bent down to Ella's level.

"Which one do you want, sweetheart?" he asked, pointing at the stuffed animals hanging around the booth. The little girl looked at him for a long moment before timidly pointing at the biggest bear in the booth. He nodded at her and stood up. "Watch and learn," he said to Elena, taking the first ball from her.

Elena took a step back, pulling Ella with her to keep her out of the way. Damon planted his feet and, with all the practice of someone who had observed many a baseball player, drew back his arm and stepped into his pitch. He easily knocked down half the milk bottles.

"Wow!" Ella gasped.

"She's impressed," Damon told Elena.

"That makes one of us," she replied, handing him a second ball. He winked at her and resumed his position. Elena watched his biceps bulge as he bent his arm again. He launched the ball and knocked down all but three milk bottles.

"What do I get if I knock down those last three bottles?" he asked Elena as he reached for the last ball.

"The satisfaction of making a little girl's day," she told him, putting both hands on her niece's shoulders. Damon took a deep breath and resumed his position. With careful concentration, he lined up his pitch and was confident when he released the ball. He was only moderately surprised when the remaining bottles fell. Ella shrieked in excitement and clapped her hands while Elena, beaming, gave him a short round of applause of her own. The booth attendant handed him the big bear and he turned to Ella.

"For you," he said, offering the bear which was more than half her size, to her. She looked at Elena who gave her a nod of approval before she grabbed it from him and hugged it to her.

"What do you say, El?" Elena asked, leaning down so she was closer to her niece's height.

"Thank you," she said shyly, hugging the bear tightly.

"You are most welcome," Damon replied, giving her another smile. He stood once more.

"Thank you," Elena told him. "That was sweet of you."

"I like her dad," he answered with a shrug. Elena smiled and shook her head in amusement before crouching down to her niece's level.

"Ella? This is my – friend – Damon," she said, officially introducing Damon. Damon liked the sound of friend.' "Damon, this is my niece, Ella."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Ella," he said, offering Ella his hand. She took it, mimicking what she'd seen all the adults in her life do.

"Hi," she replied, then snatched her hand away shyly. She looked at Elena. "Ride ponies now?" she asked.

"I did promise," Elena confirmed. She looked at Damon. "We're heading to the pony rides. Want to join us?"

"Well, I did show up here with the intentions of running into you accidentally on purpose," he said. They started walking, Elena holding her niece's hand. Damon walked close to Elena, his arm brushing hers occasionally.

"Did you go home and crash after our run this morning?" Elena asked.

"I did," Damon admitted. "You wore me out, Gilbert." As he'd hoped, Elena laughed. "How was helping Caroline with all of this?" He waved his hand to indicate the carnival.

"Soul crushing," Elena answered. "She's an event planner by trade. These town events are her version of the Super Bowl and being as she's marrying the mayor's son, she gets to plan them all. Luckily, I had a get out of jail free card this time." She nodded her head to indicate her niece. "I'm usually not so lucky."

"I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Alaric Saltzman is working the church booth at a town event," Damon said. "You can't understand how messed up that is in my head. He spent more time chasing skirts and guzzling booze than…" Elena elbowed him.

"Little ears," she hissed, reminding him that Ella was with her.

"Oh, right," he said, realizing he'd have to work to keep his language child-friendly. "Sorry. I'll behave."

"Somehow, I doubt that," Elena said. "But just so you know, Ric hasn't gone completely soft. I'm handing Ella off to Jeremy and Bonnie in about an hour and they're taking her overnight so Ric and Jenna can have the house to themselves."

"Now that sounds more like Ric," Damon said with an appreciative grin.

They arrived at the pony rides and Damon stood aside, watching as Elena navigated Ella through the line and to the pony of her choice. He smirked as Ella inform Elena that she could ride the pony by herself and, once a riding helmet was snapped on and a worker had helped her into the saddle, the large bear along for the ride, she sent her aunt to the fence to watch.

"Something tells me she gets her temper from her aunt," Damon said as Elena joined him.

"Shut up," she mumbled, but with a small smile. The ponies started walking in their circle, causing Ella to let out a shriek of excitement. Elena smiled and took her phone out of her bag to take a few photos.

"You know, I had fun the other night," Damon started, his eyes trained on the pony ride. Elena snapped one more photo, then turned to look at Damon.

"I did too," she told him. "You surprised me." That got his full attention.

"How so?" he asked. Elena shrugged.

"You were a gentleman. I was anticipating having to kick you wear it hurts to get you off of me by the end of the night."

"Contrary to popular belief, I can behave myself every once in a while." Damon rolled his shoulders a couple of times to relieve the tension that had suddenly settled there. It bothered him that Elena had thought he'd treat her with anything other than respect – not that his behavioral pattern indicated anything different.

"I'm starting to think popular belief and what you're actually capable of are two very different things," she told him. Ella called out to her as she passed and Elena looked away from Damon to smile and wave.

"You don't exactly live up to your billing either, you know," replied.

"How so?" Elena asked, returning her attention to him.

"I remember you, Elena. You were – and still are, as far as I can tell – the golden girl of Mystic Falls. Honor student, cheer captain, Miss Mystic Falls… Probably have a long resume full of volunteer work and community projects. Add to that a degree from Columbia and a bestselling book and the last thing most men would expect around here is someone full of fire with an independent streak as wide as the Mississippi."

"I guess looks can be deceiving," her eyes on Damon. She bit her lip, memories of kissing him on her doorstep rushing to the forefront of her mind. She often thought exactly what Damon had just said. She lived up to the expectations that came with being a member of a funding family and yet had her own drum that she beat to as loud and as often as possible. Most people chose to overlook her independent streak. Damon seemed to embrace it.

"Guess so," he echoed, leaning perceptively closer to her.

"Day-mun!" came Ella's voice. Their moment broken, they both turned to Ella who was waving as she passed them again. Damon gave her a smile and held up his hand in a self-conscious type of wave, revealing that he wasn't entirely comfortable being around small children. Elena held in a grin at his slight awkwardness and went to retrieve Ella as the ride came to an end.

"Where to next?" she asked Ella as they returned to Damon.

"Cotton candy," Damon supplied. Ella's eyes lit up at his suggestion.

"No," Elena said sternly. "It's pure sugar. She'll be on a sugar high all night, won't go to sleep..."

"And she'll be with your brother, not you," Damon cut her off. "We ply her with sugar and hand her off. We're the cool ones, they're the screwed ones." Elena raised her eyebrows in warning when "screwed" fell from Damon's lips. He smirked in reply.

"Cotton candy, Aunt Laney!" Ella begged.

"Yeah, Aunt Laney, cotton candy," Damon said. He offered Ella his hand which she happily accepted.

"Fine," Elena grumbled. "You're trouble, Salvatore."

"So are you, Gilbert," he replied. He scooped Ella up into his arms, her overstuffed bear and all, and boldly took Elena's hand in his. "Come on, girls."

For the next hour, Damon let a two year old dictate the itinerary. Cotton candy, kiddie rides, more carnival games and a return to the pony ride later, they were walking towards the petting zoo to pass Ella off to Jeremy and Bonnie. Ella had quickly taken to Damon and was now walking happily between him and Elena, holding their hands and talking animatedly about her day. Damon listened, Ella's carnival spoils held in his free hand, wondering how Elena seemed to understand everything the two year old was saying as a lot of it sounded like gibberish to him.

"Ella Bella!"

"Hi, Uncle Jer!" Ella broke free and ran the last few steps to Jeremy who swooped her into a hug before she reached for Bonnie with a shriek of "Aunt Bon!"

"Hey," Elena greeted her brother. "You remember Damon?"

"Vaguely," Jeremy said, nodding politely at Damon. "Good to see you around here again." Damon returned Jeremy's polite nod with one of his own.

"Elena was telling me you played college ball," he said. Sports and the weather were his two safety topics when he needed to strike up conversation. Jeremy took the bait.

"Wide receiver at JMU," Jeremy confirmed. "We won a national title while I was there." The conversation took off from there, leaving Bonnie and Elena to escort Ella through the petting zoo.

"I heard you were with him tonight," Bonnie said quietly as Ella squatted down to pet a small lamb. "How'd that happen?"

"Why am I not surprised I'm already the talk of the town?" Elena grumbled, more to herself. "When we went running this morning, I told him to show up here and try to run into me. I didn't think he actually would." Bonnie glanced towards Damon and Jeremy just in time to see Damon giving Elena a look full of both lust and longing.

"I think he likes you," she told Elena. "Sure is going through a lot of trouble to spend time with you. Up for a run at dawn, braving a town carnival to see you, only to end up hanging out with a toddler."

"He's just being nice," Elena said dismissively. "Besides, Stefan works all the time, not that they get along all that well anyway. Who else is he going to hang out with while he's here?" She leaned down to Ella's level to answer a question about the goat she was petting.

"So do you like him?" Bonnie asked when Elena was upright again. Elena looked over her shoulder to where Damon and Jeremy were talking animatedly. Jeremy threw his head back, laughing at something Damon had just said.

"I'm – curious about him," Elena admitted. "He's really smart, Bonnie. When I'm with him, it isn't like being with Matt. Matt is perfectly nice. He's one of my best friends. But we don't have much in common. Those couple of dates I went on with him, all we talked about was high school. Damon argued with me over Faulkner and he lights up when he talks about his career. He challenges me. But I'm trying to be realistic. He's only in town for a couple of weeks and then he'll go back to his life in New York and I'll continue living out my days here."

"You're more than curious about him," Bonnie said knowingly. "And I still have a really good feeling about you and him." Elena gave Bonnie a fond shake of her head and changed the subject to Caroline's wedding plans as they made their way back around to Damon and Jeremy.

"We should probably get going, be the responsible aunt and uncle and get the little one home and in bed at a decent hour," Jeremy said. He glanced up at the sky and then looked at Elena. "It's supposed to storm tonight. You can stay with us if you'd rather not drive back to the lake."

"Yeah, stay with us," Bonnie agreed. "We have plenty of room."

"I'll be fine," Elena told them. Damon picked up on the firmness in her voice and furrowed his brow slightly, wondering what had prompted it.

"Well, if you change your mind…" Jeremy said. "Since Ric and Jenna are all about having the place to themselves tonight, and all…"

"I know," Elena said, a bit gentler this time. "And thank you. But really, I'll be fine. You all act like the lake house is in another country."

"May as well be," Jeremy replied under his breath.

"I'll make sure she gets home okay," Damon said, putting a hand on the small of Elena's back. Jeremy looked between the two in an effort to determine what was going on between them and then nodded once at Damon to show his thanks.

"I had so much fun with you, Ella," Elena said, picking up her niece to give her a hug. "You be good for Aunt Bon and Uncle Jer, okay?"

"Okay, Aunt Laney," Ella said with a smile. Elena kissed her cheek. "Eskimo kiss!" Ella shrieked, bumping her nose with Elena. Elena humored her and Ella laughed happily as they rubbed noses.

"Can you tell Damon goodbye?" Elena asked when she pulled away.

"Bye, Day-mun," Ella said, looking at Damon with her wide dark blue eyes.

"Bye, kiddo," Damon said, handing her the stuffed bear. "Don't forget this."

"Thank you!" she said. She surprised Damon – and everyone else – by leaning forward in Elena's arms and kissing his cheek. Elena was sure he blushed.

"You already have her bag, right?" Elena asked Bonnie.

"Jenna put it in our car earlier," Bonnie confirmed, taking Ella from Elena.

"This is hers too," Damon said, handing Jeremy a bag of cotton candy and a couple other carnival prizes he'd been carrying.

"Cotton candy, great," Jeremy said, already bracing himself for the sugar high he was sure his niece was currently riding. He turned to his wife and niece. "Ladies," he offered his arm which Bonnie took.

"I'll talk to you tomorrow," Bonnie said over her shoulder. Elena nodded and then turned back to Damon.

"I think Ella is smitten," she said with a grin.

"Gilbert niece down, Gilbert aunt to go," he replied simply. Elena shook her head at him. "What now, Miss Gilbert?" Elena didn't have to think. Whenever there was a big town festival, she had one tradition she had to uphold, no matter what Caroline tried to drag her into.

"A funnel cake," she told him. "With chocolate sauce." Damon grinned.

"Sweet tooth much?" he asked, offering his arm the same way Jeremy had.

"Guilty as charged," Elena agreed, placing her hand on his elbow. He led her towards a booth selling the fried cakes. Elena was aware of the curious looks from her neighbors, but found they didn't bother her. If Damon had noticed them, he didn't let on.

They ordered a funnel cake to share, with confectionary sugar and chocolate sauce at Elena's request, and once they were served, took a seat on one of the hay bales strategically placed throughout the carnival. From their vantage point, they had a good view of the makeshift stage where a local band was play. They sat close, the hay bale making it necessary, which was fine by Damon who had found himself touching Elena in some manner all night, whether holding her hand or placing his own hand on the small of her back to guide her and Ella through a crowd.

"I can't remember the last time I had one of these," Damon said between bites of the fried dough.

"I get one at every single town event," Elena told him. "I've tried to make them at home, but they never quite taste the same. My mom could make them though. They turned out perfect every time."

"Every town event? That must mean about two of these a month." Damon remembered all the events Mystic Falls put on during his childhood. A festival for this, a fundraiser for that. There was always something going on in the small town.

"More like one," Elena said. "The funnel cake vendor doesn't usually get invited to the cocktail parties at the Lockwoods."

"They still do that big Halloween festival?" he asked. "The one with all the vampires and werewolves and witches?"

"Yes," Elena said with a roll of her eyes. "Caroline is in charge of that one too. Other than the big Christmas wonderland, it's the biggest event of the year. She's been planning both for months."

"I always liked that one," Damon said. "People thought I was dressed up with the dark colored clothing and all. The pale yet flawless complexion helped too."

"Let me guess. Vampire?"

"Naturally," Damon said with a wave of his hand, drawing another laugh out of Elena. He smiled. There was something about hearing her laugh that soothed him, made him feel like all was right in the world. He wanted to hear that sound again and again.

For the next hour, they sat on the hay bale together, trading stories about town events from over the years, Damon remembering things he hadn't thought about in years as he talked. The conversation flowed easily, their funnel cake long gone, Damon's hand resting on Elena's leg as she leaned towards him. They were discussing favorite movies when the band they hadn't been listening to stopped abruptly and Caroline's voice filled the mic.

"I'm so sorry, but we're going to have to cut tonight's show short," she said. "There are severe storms moving in and in turn, we're closing the festival down early and encourage everyone to head home. We'll be back up and running tomorrow and Monday with the weekend festivities wrapping up with one last summer barbecue at Mayor Lockwood's on Monday evening. Thanks for coming!"

People around them began gathering belongs and children. Elena looked up at the sky which had been full of stars when she and Damon had sat down and found it now heavy with dark ,threatening clouds. As though on cue, lightning flashed in the distance, followed several moments later by a far off rumble of thunder.

"I should get going," she said, turning to Damon. He immediately picked up on the shift in Elena's demeanor. She looked nervous now, no longer the carefree woman he'd been so taken with for the better part of the evening that he'd barely been aware of the fact that he was sitting on a hay bale in the middle of Mystic Falls, listening to a second rate band play covers of country songs about love, loss, dogs and beer.

"You okay?" he asked, immediately concerned. He watched her eyes dart towards the sky and back at him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," she said too quickly for it to be the truth. "I just have a bit of a drive and with the storm coming, I should get going, try to beat it home." Damon shook his head.

"You're not driving out to the lake in this," he said. "It's moving in from that direction. You're just going to drive right into it." Elena chewed her lip.

"Maybe I should take Jeremy and Bonnie up on their offer." Damon had an idea.

"Stay with me," he said. He hurried to clarify what he meant when Elena's eyes grew big. "You've been to the boarding house. It's full of bedrooms that don't get used. You can have your pick." Then he grinned. "And we can watch _Fight Club_ and correct the horrible wrong that is the fact that you've never seen it." Elena gave him a small, timid smile, remembering his earlier indignation when he'd learned she'd never seen his all-time favorite movie.

"I really can stay with Bonnie and Jeremy," she ventured. Damon shook his head and took her hand.

"Stay with me," he said. "Stefan's working or actually staying at his own place or something. The boarding house is big and empty. You'd be keeping me company. And really, _Fight Club_."

Another flash of lightning followed by a rumble of thunder, closer this time, filled the space. Most of the festival goers had already cleared out, leaving a few stragglers and carnival workers picking up trash and closing down their booths against the increasing winds.

"Okay," Elena agreed, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "Looks like you have yourself a house guest tonight." Damon grinned and bit back a witty response about how he always got what he wanted, sensing it would send Elena's straight to Jeremy's instead of home with him. She shivered as the wind picked up and he didn't hesitate to shrug off his leather jacket, realizing the late summer air had grown quite cool ahead of the pending storm.

"Put this on," he instructed, draping it over her shoulders. "Where did you park?"

"The library parking lot."

"I'm not too far from there," Damon said. He stood, took her hand and pulled her to her feet. "I'll walk to you to your car, grab mine, and meet you at the boarding house."

Elena allowed him to lead her through the nearly empty festival. His grip on her hand was firm, confident. She liked it, especially in that moment as yet another pop of lightning lit up the sky, the thunder following shortly after. Her SUV was one of the only vehicles left in the library parking lot when they arrived. She insisted on giving Damon a ride to his car a few blocks away and then followed him to the Salvatore boarding house as a light rain started to fall.

* * *

**Whew! Lots of goodness there. What'd you think?**


	7. Storm

**The response to the last chapter was unbelievable. I keep saying it and will keep on saying it, but thank you so much for reading and reviewing and favoriting. You all are wonderful. **

**For those of you hoping for some good Damon/Elena one on one time after last chapter - here you go. :) **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries**

* * *

As they pulled into the roundabout drive of the Salvatore boarding house, Damon hit a button on the remote clipped to his car's sun visor. A garage door started to open. He tapped another button, opening another stall door, and motioned for Elena to park in the empty space. She did so and he met her at her door as she stepped out.

"I hope Stefan has that pretty little red Porsche of his under cover," he said. "The radio said to expect hail. It would be a shame to see it fall victim to a hail storm."

"Is that your way of saying you hope your little brother is safe and sound from these storms?" Elena asked. Damon looked at her seriously.

"He drives a 1963 Porsche 356B Karmann Coupe. It should be punishable by death if someone so much as puts a fingerprint on its back bumper."

"You really love cars," she observed, studying him. Despite what he said, she knew he was concerned, at least on some level, about Stefan's whereabouts.

"The cars we drive say a lot about us," Damon told her. Outside, the sky opened up suddenly, unleashing a violent downpour, accompanied by more thunder and lightning. "Come on," he said. He reached for Elena's hand and led her across the six car garage and through the door that opened into the kitchen.

"Thanks for letting me stay," Elena said as Damon released her hand and started to flip on lights, flooding the big home with a soft glow. "Bonnie and Jeremy are great and all, but their place is pretty small. With Ella there, it would have been one person too many to be comfortable."

"I'd rather have you here where I know you're safe," Damon replied, coming towards Elena. He placed his hands on her waist. "Besides, you're pretty which makes you fun to look at."

"You aren't so bad to look at yourself, you know." Elena put her own hands on Damon's shoulders. He reached out and ran a hand through her hair.

"I promise I have every intention of being a gentleman," he told her seriously. "But right now, there is something I have to do."

He leaned in then and captured her lips with his, pulling her flush against him, his arms moving to circle around her waist. She mimicked his moves, wrapping her arms around his neck to pull him still closer. He ran the kiss right up to the edge of taking it too far before he pulled away. He placed one last soft, short kiss on her lips before releasing her completely, feeling the loss of warmth profoundly as she stepped back.

"I've been wanting to do that all night," he said.

"I've been wanting you to do that since our run this morning," Elena countered. Her eyes went big for the briefest of moments then, letting Damon catch on that she hadn't meant to say it out loud.

"Should've said something sooner," he said with a smirk. "I'm going to run upstairs and get my phone charger. Make yourself at home, okay? There's plenty of food and stuff to drink." He paused. "Although, I'm not really sure how it got there. I haven't been to a grocery store and I don't think Stefan has either."

"Your father just died," Elena said knowingly. "Speaking from experience, mysterious casseroles will show up in your fridge for another week or so. Fair warning, some will be better than others."

"The good people of Mystic Falls strike again," he said. "Be right back." Damon hurried out of the room and up the stairs. He didn't actually need his charger or anything else, but he did need a minute to get himself under control.

Elena had been affecting him all night, but it had been easier to push down thoughts of what he'd like to do to her when they were in public, him unable to act on his impulses without risk of being thrown in jail for public indecency. Having her in the boarding house and saying things about how she wished he'd kissed her earlier, it was all he could do not to act on the fantasies that had slowly, but surely, filled his head over the last few days.

Then there was the fact that he _wanted_ to get himself under control. He couldn't remember the last time he'd purposefully made an effort not to take things too far. He'd pretended to be a gentleman a number of times – women loved that stuff – only to let his true intentions show the very moment the woman in his crosshairs dropped her guard. With Elena, he wanted to spend time with her. He wanted to get to know her. He wanted to talk to her and he hated talking to anyone who wasn't involved in making him money. He preferred to be alone, to operate without any attachments.

Whatever Elena was doing to him was confusing the hell out of him. He would need to figure it out eventually, why this woman was proving to be so different than any other of the many women he'd entertained. But for Now, Elena was waiting. He took a few moments to breathe deep before he unplugged his phone charger and returned downstairs. He had instinctively gone to the living room, expecting to find Elena there. When the sofas and arm chairs turned up empty, he frowned slightly and re-routed to the kitchen.

He found her there, her back to him as she stood at the double glass sliding door that led to one of the home's outdoor entertaining areas. He watched as her whole body tensed with an especially loud crack of lightning, the rain pounding relentless against the house. She had wrapped her arms around herself and she tightened them even more as thunder rumbled through the night. It looked as though she were trying to make herself as small as possible.

"Elena?" he asked softly. She jumped, startled by his voice, but didn't turn around.

"Hey," she said. He heard the strain in her voice she was trying to hide. "It's really coming down out there."

"Yeah, it is," he agreed. He dropped his charger on a counter and crossed the kitchen to stand a few feet from her. "You okay?" She nodded but didn't answer. Another crack of lightning elicited the same tense response from Elena. "Elena?" He knew something was wrong. He was in unfamiliar territory, caring about why she was uncomfortable, but he had to do whatever he could to help her. He took another few steps towards her and put a soft hand on her elbow.

"I'm okay," she said automatically.

"Elena."

She finally tuned to him and when she did, he saw the fear in her eyes. The pieces fell into place, Jeremy warning her about the storms and encouraging her to stay with them, her sudden urgency to go home when Caroline issued her storm warning. Elena was afraid of thunderstorms.

"Hey, come here." Damon pulled her to his chest and felt her hands clutch the fabric of his t-shirt to draw herself closer. "You're safe," he whispered into her hair. "I've got you." She nodded against his chest. He continued to hold her, whispering words of comfort that he hadn't known he was capable of saying. Several minutes later, she was the one to pull away.

"I'm sorry," she apologized, wiping at her eyes. "Storms scare me."

"No need to apologize," Damon said with a shake of his head. He smoothed a hand over her hair. Yet another crack of lightning sounded and she jumped again, a gasp of surprise escaping. Outside, hail joined in with the pounding rain.

"I'm sorry," Elena said again as she wrapped her arms around her once more. "I just… It's just…" She stopped talking for a moment and took a deep breath before looking back to Damon. "It was storming the night my parents died. Ever since, storms… They bring that night back."

Damon didn't know how to reply to that so he just pulled her back to him and held her a little longer. He noticed the scent of coffee and glanced around the kitchen to see a freshly brewed pot that Elena must have made while he was upstairs. Seeing the pot gave him an idea.

"Come on," he said, pulling away just enough to slip an arm around her waist and guide her out of the kitchen. He'd intended to lead her to the living room and deposit her on the couch, but he had another thought and re-routed them up the stairs. "Let's get you into something more comfortable."

In his room, he let go of Elena and left her to wander as he rummaged through his drawers for a t-shirt for her to sleep in. She made a beeline for the stack of books on his nightstand.

"First edition?" she asked, gingerly picking up his copy of _Gone With The Wind_.

"It was my mother's," he confirmed. He laid a t-shirt and a pair of clean boxers on the bed. "These will probably swallow you whole, but they'll be way more comfortable than those jeans."

"Thanks," she said. "For everything." Damon nodded once.

"Meet me in the living room," he told her. He pointed towards an open door off of his room. "Bathroom is just through there." He left, closing the bedroom door behind him. With the click of the door, Elena blew out a breath and gingerly sat on the edge of Damon's neatly made bed.

The day had been one long roller coaster ride. She had started out on a high, thanks to her run with Damon. From there, things had coasted along fairly smoothly as she'd gone to Jenna and Alaric's to shower and get ready for the day. She'd parted ways with Jenna a little more tension than she would have liked, thanks to Jenna's fixation on Damon, but she'd still been in a good mood.

Helping Caroline had been a lot of up and down. She loved Caroline dearly, but when she was in charge of virtually anything, she tended to become a tyrant, demanding perfection and finding someone to yell at until she got it. While none of Caroline's rants had been directed at her, she'd still had to endure a day full of the blonde's to-do lists, time she could have used to work on her next book for which she'd been experiencing a lot of inspiration for as of late.

The day had taken a plummet when she'd ran into Matt Donovan as she'd placed the final touches on the elaborate fall decorations greeting festival goers at the south end of the town square. She'd known him her entire life and recognized the hurt expression in his eye almost instantly. Without thinking, she'd asked him what was wrong and he in turn asked her if she was dating Damon Salvatore. She'd told him the truth – that she'd had dinner with him – and reminded him that while she had been on a couple of dates with him since moving back, they weren't a couple. Matt had agreed, but she could tell she'd dashed his false hopes pretty thoroughly, just by dining with the elder Salvatore.

Her feelings of guilt for hurting Matt had subsided fairly quickly when Ric and Jenna had shown up with Ella and placed the toddler in her charge. She adored her niece. Ella was smart and curious and had a vivid imagination that made Elena wish she were that innocent again. She had loved watching Ella take in the festival, dazzled by the lights and sounds. At one point, while standing beside Ella as she'd giggled happily on the merry go round, she had even thought about how someday, she wanted her own child to bring to town festivals, dress up at Halloween and tuck into bed on Christmas Eve, only to be woken up by shouts of "Santa came!" a few short hours later.

The night skyrocketed when Damon showed up. She'd hoped he would, but hadn't let her hopes get up so high that she'd be crushed if he didn't. But then he was there, taunting her throwing and taking her challenge to prove he could do better. He'd been positively charming from then on out, playing second fiddle to Ella who dictated their every move. He'd won the little girl over handedly, not only because he'd bought her cotton candy, but because he'd interacted with her, listened to her as though she were an equal and not a small child.

Elena had been floored by his interaction with her. She'd had to cut him off a time or two, his habit of dropping curse words or lewd comments into conversation not one that was easily broken, but he'd been a natural with Ella. She hadn't expected that. He came across as dangerous, a bit reckless. He'd even looked the part, dressed all in black again, right down to his leather jacket. Yet Ella had wrapped him around her finger, brought out a softer side that Elena had glimpsed during the dinner and when he'd walked her home.

The night had only gotten better after Jeremy and Bonnie had left with Ella. Something as simple as sitting on a hay bale and sharing a funnel cake had been wonderful. He'd made her laugh, challenged her, listened to her. Then the storm had come up and she'd plummeted down another hill, fighting not to fall victim to the memories that haunted her ever since the night her parents had died. Damon had been there then too, showing his soft side again, holding her and soothing her.

With a sigh, she stood and began to change. The t-shirt, black of course, hit her mid-thigh and smelled like Damon. The boxer shorts were far too big, no matter how many times she rolled them. She gave up, deciding the shirt was long enough, and headed downstairs. Damon wasn't in the living room, but he had already cued up _Fight Club_, the start screen's music playing on loop. She could hear him in the kitchen, but waited for him in the living room as he'd instructed. The storm, which had died down for a few minutes, had picked back up, the rain lashing at the windows, another round of hail pounding the house.

"You ready for one of the greatest coming of age movies of all time?" Damon asked, entering the room with two coffee mugs.

"Easy on the 'greatest of all time' claim, Kanye," Elena said, accepting a mug from him. He laughed as he settled in next to her. He too had changed, now wearing plaid pajama pants and a white v-neck t-shirt. It was the first time she'd seen him in something besides black or navy. She took a sip from her mug, assuming it was coffee, but was surprised with a different yet familiar flavor she couldn't place mingling with the strong coffee she had made earlier. "What's this?"

"Coffee mixed with hot chocolate," Damon answered, taking a drink from his own mug. "In this case, salted caramel hot chocolate because that's all we had. My mom used to make these."

"It's good," Elena said, taking another sip. It was the second time he'd mentioned his mother that evening. She wasn't sure how she knew it was significant, but she did. Stefan never talked about their mother, but she'd always assumed that was because he'd never known her. "Start the movie?"

"As you wish," Damon agreed. He leaned forward, picked up the remote, and pushed play. Outside, the wind whistled around the corners of the house.

At first, Elena and Damon remained in their respective spots on the couch, sipping their drinks and watching the movie. Elena sneaked looks at Damon who was engrossed in the movie although he had seen it many times over. While she didn't hate it, she wasn't particular drawn in by the story unfolding either. It kept her mind off the storm that raged on outside, however, for which she was grateful.

She leaned forward to place her empty mug on the coffee table and deciding to be bold, tucked herself into Damon's side. He smiled and took that as his cue to wrap an arm around her. As the underground fighting on screen grew more intense, she found herself more sucked in to the filmn and unconsciously draped her legs over Damon's which were propped on the coffee table. He responded by pulling a throw from the back of the couch and spreading it over them, placing a feather of a kiss on her head as he did so.

The movie was just reaching its climax when the loudest pop of lightning yet cracked outside, followed by a rumble of thunder so loud it shook the house. There was another pop and the house was pitched into darkness.

"Oh, come on!" Damon exclaimed, irritated that his movie had been interrupted. He looked towards Elena. "It was almost at my favorite part."

"You could rival Ella with that pout," Elena quipped.

"Funny," Damon replied although he was glad to see Elena seemed to have relaxed from her earlier scare. He blew out a breath, knowing he needed to be responsible and find them a light source until the power came on. "You stay here. I think there are some candles in the kitchen. Maybe a flashlight too."

"They can wait," she told him, placing a hand on his chest to stop him. "I'm comfortable." Part of her was still reeling from the storm but for the most part, she wasn't quite ready to let Damon off the couch. He looked at her through the darkness.

"Well, who would I be to argue with a beautiful woman?" he asked, settling back against the couch cushions. Elena settled back into her place at Damon's side, her head resting on his shoulder. They remained like that for a while, both lost in their own thoughts. Elena jumped every once in a while when the storm would unleash a particularly violent rumble of thunder or pop of lightning and each time, Damon would wordlessly tighten his arm around her, letting her know she was safe.

"So you and Stefan," Damon mentioned after a while. He busied himself by playing with the fringe of the throw.

"What about me and Stefan?" Elena asked.

"You dated him."

"I did."

"Why'd you break up?"

Elena pushed herself into a seating position and even though the only light she had was the frequent flash of lightning, she could see the slightest hint of vulnerability in Damon's eyes. Under the cover of near pitch black, he was letting his guard down just a little more.

"Because we were eighteen," she answered. "We had our own plans. He was going to UVA to be a doctor. I was going to Columbia to be a writer. We weren't willing to do the long distance thing and ultimately, we knew we were better friends than boyfriend and girlfriend. It may disappoint you, but there were no hard feelings or big, dramatic blow up arguments. It was a mutual 'hey, we've had a good run, but let's be friends' kind of split. And he's been one of my best friends ever since."

"I am a little disappointed that Stefan didn't do something to cause you to throw things, slam doors, at the very least, storm out of the room," Damon said. "I like it when he's the bad guy."

"Instead of you?" Elena asked. Damon looked at her and she could tell, even in the darkness, that she'd caught him. "You aren't fooling me, Damon. Underneath those tailored black suits and the 'I always get what I want' attitude, you're a good guy." Damon continued to study her for a few more long moments. Then he shook his head, almost sadly.

"I'm not the good guy, Elena. Never have been, never will be."

"I don't believe that," Elena replied, moving towards him.

"You stick around long enough and I'll prove it," Damon said as though she'd issued a challenge. He pulled her closer. "I have a tendency to live up to everyone's worst expectations."

"Or you're good at self-sabotage," Elena said, her lips mere inches from his.

"I'm also good at this." He buried a hand in her silky hair and pulled her lips to his, kissing her deeply. Her lips parted with a sigh and he seized the opportunity, deepening the kiss even more, his tongue slipping in. With one hand still buried in her hair, he looped his other arm around her waist and pulled her into his lap. Straddling him, she placed a hand on either side of face, her fingers playing through his hair.

Damon pulled away, but only to start pressing soft kisses along her throat. He heard her sigh again and grinned against her skin. He wasn't good at talking about feelings or letting people get close to him, but he was good at this, at making a woman feel good. Pulling his lips from her skin, he moved back towards her lips, letting his stubble tickle along her throat.

"Damon," she whispered. His lips found hers again and this time, he laid back on the couch, pulling her with him.

Elena didn't know how much time had passed, whether it was five minutes or an hour. All she knew was Damon, his lips on hers and occasionally along her throat, his hands in her hair, moving up and down her back, venturing to her hip a time or two. She kissed him back with just as much fervor, her own hands moving along his hard chest. She pressed her body along his, making it clear that she wanted him. He kept himself in check, however, his moves purely PG. Finally, he pulled away, his breathing heavy.

"Lena," he said in a husky voice. He kissed her forehead and then laid back on the couch to catch his breath. She placed a soft kiss on the skin exposed by the v of his t-shirt and then laid her head back on his shoulder, her own breath starting to even out.

"You are the devil," Damon said softly. "Or an angel. I'm not sure which."

"You're definitely the devil," Elena replied. "Of that, I'm absolutely sure."

"You're not wrong." Damon kissed her forehead once more and then pulled her back into him. Elena let out a content sigh and settled against him. She realized that the storm outside had dulled to a peaceful rain with the occasional gentle rumble of thunder or flash of lightning. She didn't mind. Laying in Damon's arms, she was content. Another unknown amount of time passed before Damon spoke again.

"It's late. Let's get you in a bed."

Against her body's will, Elena forced her to a sitting position. Damon stood and took her hand to lead her through the still dark house, unfamiliar to her but as familiar to him now, years since he'd lived there, as it was to him as a small boy. They climbed the stairs and went down a hallway, entering Damon's bedroom.

"You sleep here tonight," Damon said, dropping Elena's hand once they were in the room. "I know for a fact that the bed is comfortable."

"And where are you sleeping?" Elena asked, turning to him in the darkness. She could just make out his form a few feet in front of her.

"With you."

Elena's jaw dropped ever so slightly. She had planned to protest, to insist that he sleep in his bed. They were adults, after all, and could surely be trusted to sleep next to one another. But Damon was as forward and as surprising as ever. He moved passed her, jarring her out of her thoughts. He flopped unceremoniously onto the bed, resting his head on the arm he'd bent behind him. The fact that it was completely dark added an element of danger to the situation.

"You coming?" he asked. Elena nodded even though she knew he couldn't see her and walked around to the other side of the bed. She pulled the covers back and slipped under them. Beside her, Damon pulled his t-shirt off and then joined her under the covers.

"Thanks for letting me stay tonight," she told him.

"Best night I've had in a while," Damon replied. He moved then, sliding over to her. Wordlessly, he rolled her gently onto her side and then pulled her to him, her back against his chest. He kissed her shoulder. "Goodnight, Elena."

"Night, Damon."

Outside, the storm blew itself out. Inside, spooned together in Damon's king-sized bed, Elena drifted off to sleep, her busy mind crowded by the feeling of Damon wrapped around her. Damon, however, lay awake well into the night, his mind racing. He was falling for Elena Gilbert. And it was starting to look like there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

* * *

**Damon is starting to realize he's in over his head, I do believe. How will this shake out? **

**Let me know what you thought!**


	8. Timber

**Holy wow! Imag****ine my surprise when I woke up the morning after posting the last update and had a dozen reviews in just a few short hours. Thank you all so much! I wish I had time to reply to each of you, but I've been using every spare minute to write this story - I'm slightly obsessed with it and I love what's unfolding in my Word document.  
**

**I really love this update, particularly the last section. It's more introspective. As this story has developed, I've come to realize its as much about Damon's personal development as it is about Damon and Elena falling for one another. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries. **

* * *

Damon awoke with a groan. Without opening his eyes, he reached groggily for Elena. His hand landed on cool sheets. His eyes popped open then, taking in the rumbled silk. He sat up and glanced towards the bathroom. The door was open, the room empty. He threw his blankets back and headed for the stairs, noting only vaguely that the electricity had been restored. As he descended the stairs, he picked up on sounds coming from the kitchen. Relief washed over him when he saw the brunette, still clad in his t-shirt, standing at the stove, manning a frying pan.

"Good morning," Elena greeted. She smiled at him over her shoulder before turning back to the bacon she was frying.

"Morning," Damon replied. He made his way to her, almost cautiously. "I thought you'd given me the slip."

"I still can if you'd like," Elena said in a neutral tone, moving a strip of bacon from the pan to a napkin-covered plate. With the morning sun, her insecurities had come rushing forward. She'd awoken with Damon's arms wrapped around her, his nose buried in her hair as he slept deeply. Last night, pressed against him on the couch, she had let herself get swept away in the idea of him, of them. In the daylight, she was reminded that Damon was just passing through. He had a life in New York that he loved. They would never be more than – whatever they were right then.

"Don't you dare," Damon growled. He came up behind her and slipped his arms around her, pressing his full body against her petite one. He reached around her and took the spatula from her hand. Setting it down on the counter, he turned the stove off then spun Elena around, guided her backwards until he'd pinned her between himself and the counter. "Good morning," he said again. He didn't give Elena a chance to reply before his lips were on hers.

It didn't take long for things to heat up. With one arm wrapped around her waist, his other hand moved lazily up her leg, slipped under the t-shirt she was wearing. Elena let her hands run up and down Damon's sculpted torso, feeling the muscles twitch in response to her touch. She pressed herself closer to him and pulled her lips away from his, moved them down his neck and along his collarbone.

"Definitely an angel," Damon muttered. He placed a hand on her check, tilted her head up to him and kissed her once more before he pulled away. "And for the record, that's a nearly proper good morning." Elena furrowed her brow.

"Nearly proper?" she asked. Damon's response was to smirk, implying that a proper good morning involved something much more indecent than the heated kiss they'd just shared. She quickly turned back to the stove to hide her blush.

"Can I help?" Damon asked.

"I'm nearly done," Elena replied as she turned the stove back on. "Can you pour us some coffee?"

"Cream? Sugar?" he asked.

"Both," Elena replied. She plated their meal and joined Damon at the kitchen island, placing a plate in front of him as he slid a mug of coffee to her. "I hope it's okay that I raided your kitchen. I woke up and realized the power was back on, so I thought I'd make breakfast. It's the least I could do since you let me stray here last night."

"I'm never going to say no to a home cooked meal," Damon replied. "And just so you know, you didn't have to cook breakfast." He took a bite of the French toast. It wasn't half bad. "But I'm really glad you did." Elena laughed lightly and start to cut up her own breakfast. They ate in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, neither feeling the need to fill the air with conversation.

"When was the last time you slept with a girl but didn't actually sleep with her?" Elena asked. Damon nearly choked on the piece of bacon in his mouth.

"What?"

"I'm not dumb, Damon," Elena told him, looking at him with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. "You were rather forward with me at your father's funeral, inviting me into a coat closet. And I had more than a few tailored suits use similar lines during my time in New York."

"I was rather forward," Damon said, but made no attempt to apologize for his behavior. "Blame the grief. Although you shouldn't have been wearing such a suggestive dress at such a somber occasion." Elena narrowed her eyes at him.

"There was nothing suggestive about…" He shut her up by kissing her once more, finding it ever harder to keep his hands off of her. When he pulled away, he tucked a piece of hair behind her ear.

"I assure you, your hemline wasn't nearly long enough to prevent me from thinking impure thoughts," he said, his lips close to hers. "And to answer your question, it's been a really long time." He went back to his breakfast then, leaving Elena speechless, both from his kiss and his bluntness. She just looked at him, trying to figure him out. He noticed. "I know I'm good looking, but your breakfast is getting cold." She narrowed her eyes at him then, but turned back to her breakfast, getting a laugh out of Damon.

"What makes you think you're so good looking?" Elena asked just before biting into a piece of fruit.

"You can't keep your eyes off me."

"I'm not looking at you now."

"I'm looking at you."

"And?"

"And my shirt looks good on you." Elena glanced at him then, a faint blush coloring her cheeks for the second time that morning.

"You're incorrigible," she told him.

"And you are ineluctable," he replied. Elena shook her head in amusement, both at his vocabulary which was clearly expansive and his insistence that she was irresistible. She was opening her mouth with a retort when their bubble was interrupted.

"Damon!" Stefan's voice rang out through the house.

"I'm going to murder him," Damon growled, just as Stefan appeared in the kitchen.

"Did you know…" Stefan stopped in his tracks, realizing Damon wasn't alone. His eyes fell on Elena, sitting close to Damon, wearing one of his brother's t-shirts. He did need his medical degree to figure out the pair had had a sleepover. "Sorry," he said hurriedly. "I didn't realize you had company."

"Obviously," Damon huffed. He speared a remaining piece of fruit with more force than was necessary.

"Hey, Stefan," Elena said, feeling self-conscious. She and Stefan were strictly platonic, but that didn't stop her from feeling like she'd just been caught making out with a boy by her parents.

"Elena," Stefan greeted, doing his best not to make things even more awkward.

"So, yet again, why are you here?" Damon asked, annoyance thick in his voice. Elena saw the briefest flash of hurt pass through Stefan's eyes.

"Damon," she admonished. He gave her a look that was somewhere between annoyed and, if she dared to think it, embarrassed at being called out about his behavior.

"Rebekah and I are going to the festival this evening," he answered. "I thought I'd crash here for a few hours before I meet Rebekah." He shook his head as though he were shaking off a thought of some sort. "Did you know that big oak at the end of the driveway fell during the storm?" he asked Damon.

"No," Damon answered honestly. "Not surprised though. It got rough." Stefan glanced at Elena for a moment, aware of her disdain for storms. "And judging by your presence, it's not blocking the drive."

"It's not," Stefan confirmed. "It fell parallel to the main road, took out a big section of the fence. You'll need to call the landscaper to clean it up and then someone to repair the fence." Damon frowned.

"Why do I need to call the landscaper?"

"You're the executor," he reminded him. Damon opened his mouth to state his exact feelings on both the idea of being the executor and the fact that he had to be the one to call half of Mystic Falls to clean up a tree when he remembered Elena was in the room.

"I'll deal with it later," he said instead.

"There's some French toast and bacon left if you're hungry," Elena offered. Damon pierced his lips together but didn't say anything. Stefan knew his brother well enough, however, and knew it was best to make himself scarce.

"Thanks, Elena, but I'm beat. I'm going to head upstairs, get some sleep."

"Night, night little brother," Damon said. Stefan nodded at him and gave Elena a wave before he disappeared.

"You two really don't get along," Elena observed, confused by the interaction she'd just witnessed. It was the first time she'd been in a room with the pair of them outside of the funeral and it was clear that there was a significant amount of tension between them, especially from Damon.

"Like I said, we have our differences," Damon replied. He stood to place his empty plate in the sink. "More coffee?"

The topic was closed for discussion.

* * *

Damon was in his zone. Yesterday had marked the first Saturday of college football and while he'd spent most of the day watching games and working after his run with Elena, he'd still missed a number of games he was invested in, including the official season kickoff game between Alabama and West Virginia in primetime. While he didn't regret the evening spent with Elena, it had left him behind on tracking players eligible to declare for the NFL draft.

He'd set up shop in the boarding house's media room, his laptop open to his flooded inbox, his iPad set up nearby to act as a second screen, displaying stats and scores from the previous day. The giant TV was turned to ESPN which was airing hours of highlights alongside previews of the NFL season which kicked off on Thursday. He fired off an email to his assistant, a young kid just out of college that reminded him a lot of himself, and then opened a contract to read over, this one about an appearance by one of his NFL players at a charity gala in Manhattan in a few weeks. He'd have to attend, much to his dismay. Black tie events were his least favorite part of his job, but they were prime networking opportunities.

He'd done his best to keep up with his work while in Mystic Falls, but with success came more work, more offers. He'd hired his first employees over the summer and while he was happy with their performance, he'd had a hard time delegating tasks that had once been solely up to him which was why he was working on a Sunday afternoon. He was afforded another half hour no interruptions before Stefan entered the room, looking refreshed after several hours of sleep.

"It's like a command center in here," he said, taking a seat in one of the overstuffed armchairs.

"I'm working," Damon replied.

"Elena gone?"

"Yeah. She left not too long after breakfast. I called the landscaping company, by the way. They can't be here until Monday. Apparently there are plenty of other trees down that are blocking roads or landed on houses that they have to take care of first."

"Figured they'd be pretty slammed," Stefan replied. He went quiet for a while, watching game highlights, but observing Damon from the corner of his eye. It was an image he was struggling to reconcile with the many other images he had of his big brother from over the years. Damon was focused, looking up from his computer screen only long enough to watch a couple of highlights or check his iPad. He took a call at one point, barking orders at someone about a NASCAR event. He mumbled to himself as he read an email, screwing his face up in concentration as he tried to make sense of it. His phone rang again and this time, Stefan could tell it was one of his clients.

The Damon Stefan knew was reckless. As the younger brother, he'd watched Damon closely growing up, took in his actions and at times, wanted to be just like him. But he'd been wired differently, it seemed, never able to so much as skip a class without feeling guilty. His father had told him once that he was like his mother, compassionate and kind, eager to do good in the face of wrong. Damon was more like their father, right down to the devil may care attitude and the crystal blue eyes.

Stefan had spent much of his life just trying to be Damon's friend. They were brothers, but even as children, Damon had largely ignored him, opting to hide away in his room or the library. Stefan had liked it when he'd find Damon in the library. A love of literature was the one thing they had in common and in turn, the one thing he could count on to create conversation with his brother, at least until Damon had hit his teen years and become even more sullen and defiant.

Stefan didn't have to search far in his mind's eye to dig up memories of Damon and their father locked in a heated arguments. Voices were rarely raised. Neither of them needed to raise their voice to get their point across. But the arguments had been passionate and almost always resulted in Damon storming off. Sometimes he'd come home a few hours later. Sometimes a few days later. Giuseppe had stopped calling Liz Forbes after a while, assuming his eldest son would turn up eventually. He always did.

When Damon had left right after graduation, Stefan had known it was different. There was nothing holding him in Mystic Falls now that he had a diploma, a diploma Stefan strongly suspected Damon only achieved because their mother would have wanted him to. It had been months before he'd returned. He'd shown up in the early morning hours, went straight to his room, and slept past lunch. He'd stuck around for two days before taking off again, his response to yet another fight with their father, this one over Damon's plans now that high school was over.

What Stefan never figured out is why Damon came back at all. It had been fourteen years since he'd graduated Mystic Falls High School. Over the course of that time, Damon had shown up a couple times a year, usually around a holiday, staying a day or two, before taking off again. Yet despite the short visits and his general unpleasantness while he was there, Damon kept coming back. There was a reason for it and now that Stefan had grown into a man himself, he was determined to figure it out.

"This all work and no play Damon is different," he commented, looking over at Damon who had gotten comfortable on the couch once more, his feet propped on an ottoman. "Although I'm not sure your clients have ever seen you in sweatpants and a t-shirt."

"They haven't," Damon confirmed. "It's football season. This is where I make my money."

"Don't you have a couple of big name basketball players on your roster?"

"A few baseball players too. A NASCAR driver. Two hockey players. But they don't bring in the same figures as the guys wearing shoulder pads."

"It keeps you busy." He was making awkward small talk with his own brother. The thought was almost laughable.

"It puts money in the bank," Damon replied as he typed out another email. Stefan decided to change the subject to something he was sure Damon would respond to.

"How did Elena do last night?" Stefan asked. "She doesn't like storms."

"I figured that out pretty quick," Damon said in a clipped tone that Stefan found unnecessary. "She was fine. She was with me."

"You know why she's afraid of storms?" It was low, using information he knew about Elena to create a conversation with his brother, but he knew it would get his attention.

"It was storming the night her parents died. Makes sense, seeing as it was a traumatic life event and all."

"That was one of the scariest nights of my life," Stefan remembered. "When I heard Elena was in an accident and there were fatalities…"

"Elena was in the accident?" Damon asked, cutting him off, his attention suddenly fully on the conversation Stefan was trying to have.

"She was," Stefan confirmed. "We were at a party. She was dating Matt at the time and they got in a fight. She called her parents to come pick her up. They hydroplaned going over Wickery Bridge and went off the side. Grayson Gilbert managed to get Elena out of the car, but died trying to save his wife." Damon shook his head.

"She didn't tell me she was with them."

"She doesn't talk about it much," Stefan said. "She talks about her parents all the time, but never the accident."

"Can't say I blame her," Damon said. "The sudden death of a parent isn't something I like to go on about either." They both knew Damon was speaking of their mother.

"She was a mess," Stefan remembered. "She was trying to deal with their deaths, adjust to having Jenna as her guardian, and keep Jeremy out of trouble which was no small feat there for a while. He did more drugs that summer than Willie Nelson does on tour."

"Knew I liked that kid," Damon muttered.

"She's one of the strongest people I know," Stefan concluded.

The conversation ended, Damon going back to work although more distracted now with thoughts of Elena and his mother, Stefan turning his attention back to the TV. More than an hour passed with the two brothers in a peaceful silence. Damon's phone rang again, breaking the quiet.

"Hey," he said into the speaker. "You get home?" Damon waited while the person on the other end of the phone replied. He smiled. "That was your own fault," he said. "Didn't you tell me you were avoiding Caroline at all cost today?"

Elena was on the phone, Stefan realized. His first clue had been the tone of Damon's voice which was softer, somehow. With the mention of avoiding Caroline, he knew it could be no one else.

"Still wearing my shirt?" he asked. He realized Stefan was listening and stood, leaving the room. Stefan smirked. Damon would talk to a client about his affair not going public in the same room, but the moment Elena called, he was all about privacy. He returned 10 minutes later, no longer on the phone but wearing the slightest of grins. Stefan grinned himself.

"You like her," he stated.

"She's insanely hot and insanely smart. What's not to like?" Damon asked, taking his seat once more.

"No," Stefan said with a shake of his head. "You like _like_ her." Damon made a face.

"Like, like?" he asked. "When did you become a twelve year old girl?"

"You know what I mean," Stefan said with a wave of his hand. "You like Elena. More than you typically like a woman." When Damon didn't reply right away, Stefan knew he had him.

"Don't worry about me and Elena," he finally said. "It's nothing." But Stefan knew it wasn't nothing. He chose his next words carefully.

"Elena is a great girl," he said. "She looked happy with you this morning. So did you. If you have a chance at happiness, you should take it." He stood up then and left the room to get ready for his date with Rebekah, leaving Damon alone with his thoughts.

* * *

Damon was barely listening as the man – Peter, he thought his name was – rambled on about the Salvatore Timber employees. Someone had a baby recently, another was planning to retire soon. Someone else nearly cut their finger off mowing their lawn over the weekend which was ironic since he worked at a saw mill. He assumed these were important details, at least to someone, but he was too busy taking in everything around him to give them much thought.

It had been more than a decade since he'd been to the lumber yard. His memories held a very different image of the place, one of men working to feed large logs through machines, of trucks loaded down with freshly cut trees lining the yard, awaiting their turn at the mill. It had been a hands on place, full of blue collars, sweat and sawdust.

Most of that image was still in place. There were trucks of logs everywhere he looked. A thin layer of sawdust covered everything, including his boots, and woodchips flew from the many sawmills in use. But instead of men manhandling massive logs through dangerous machines, the operation was largely computerized. People were still working hard, but they sat at machines to man the controls, keeping them out of harm's way. He was fascinated. It was a well-oiled machine, from the time a load of logs arrived until they were shipped out to big box home improvement stores and private contractors.

Beside him, Peter dropped his monologue about the personal lives of employees and turned to telling Damon about their exotic lumber business, how they were carefully regulated to ensure they weren't using any wood protected by one act or another. He nodded, coming back to the conversation now that the personnel updates had seemingly ran out, and fired off question after question, asking about everything from logistics to supply and demand. Peter answered easily, having been around for the better part of twenty years.

"I know you're a big city sports agent these days, but you must be pretty proud of what the Salvatore family has created," Peter said. They had stopped on the edge of the lumber yard where piles of boards of every quality and material stacked several stories high stretched as far as they could see. Trucks were lined up along one side, being loaded down for transport.

"It is impressive," Damon agreed. "I had no idea. I haven't been here in years."

"This place has been in your family for more than seventy years," Peter said. There was an air of awe in his voice "Your grandfather started this yard with a single machine and one employee."

"He did," Damon confirmed. He'd heard the story a number of times about how his grandfather had come to America with little to his name and a family to feed. He forgot from time to time that the Salvatore line hadn't always been millionaires. He rubbed his hand across his chest absentmindedly, feeling suddenly nostalgic about his heritage. He offered his hand to Peter. "Thanks for showing me around."

"Anytime," Peter replied, shaking Damon's hand. "I hope to see more of you around here." Damon nodded politely and excused himself, allowing Peter to get back to work. As he wandered back through the mill towards the parking lot, he let his thoughts drift.

Something was happening to him. In the two or so weeks he'd been in Mystic Falls, something inside him had shifted. He'd arrived with every intention of getting in and out as quickly as possible, same as always, and had been dismayed when he'd realized he'd be there longer than anticipated. At the time, it had thrown a major wrench in his plans, resulting in rescheduling meetings and canceling business lunches. But the town was growing on him. It was increasingly more difficult to hold a grudge against the place and everything it reminded him of.

He'd never had a banana nut muffin as good as the ones at the coffee shop. They were baked fresh daily and were sold out by nine most mornings. The Grill had a surprisingly decent selection of both bourbon and scotch and the food wasn't half bad either. There wasn't much by way of shopping aside from a few local boutiques, but Charlottesville was just forty-five minutes away and while he wouldn't be getting an Armani suit there anytime soon, it was a thriving college town with good food and a decent music scene.

More than that though, he felt calm in Mystic Falls. He loved New York. He loved the pace, the nightlife, the fact that he could have any food he could dream up delivered to his door at any hour, day or night. But he always felt rushed, wound tight. He always had somewhere to be, a meeting or a fundraiser or some social outing to attend. In Mystic Falls, the anxious feeling that quietly plagued him in New York was virtually nonexistent. He found himself getting more work done in less time. He had read more in two weeks than he had in two months. He had laughed more than he had in at least a year.

He wasn't naïve. Elena had nearly everything to do with his shift of perception. He hadn't actually seen her in a couple of days, not since she'd left the boarding house Sunday morning, but he'd talked to her several times, trading texts throughout the day, spending an increasing amount of time on the phone come nighttime, talking about how she was doing with her latest deadline, what Damon had accomplished that day. Normal stuff he didn't have anyone to talk to about in New York.

In a week, Chester would read his father's will. He'd arrived in town waiting for that moment, just so he could leave again. Now, he almost didn't want it to come. With the reading of the will would come the need to make decisions. He'd have to go back to New York – his life was there – but he suddenly couldn't see himself completely cutting Mystic Falls out of his life. Elena was there and just as suddenly, he couldn't see himself cutting her out of his life either.

And that scared him to his very core.

He'd put his heart on the line once before and if he were honest with himself, was still recovering from having it ripped out of his chest and stomped on a few times for good measure. Yet the idea of going back to the life he'd embraced both before and after Katherine Pierce, one of sleeping with a new woman every other night, of drinking too much and waking up to feel the pain a little more acutely each day, wasn't as appealing as it had been when his plane had landed at the Charlottesville airport.

His phone buzzed. He retrieved it from the inside pocket of his leather jacket and smiled when he saw Elena's text message. It was a photo of her laptop, coffee mug and a notebook and pen on a patio table, the lake in the background. She'd captioned it "_Happy Wednesday_." He replied with a cheeky "_I'd make that view look even better_" and waited for her response which came quickly. "_You haven't seen the pastry I'm about to eat for lunch_." He laughed out loud then and pocketed his phone as he reached his car, deciding to give her a call, just to say hello, once he got to the boarding house.

He had to figure out where things were going with Elena. He liked her, just as Stefan had so confidently called him out on. But he wasn't sure what that meant. He'd never seen himself settling down, having a family. That was Stefan's style. It was also Elena's. Even with Katherine, they'd agreed on no children, neither willing to give up their selfish lifestyles. Yet he'd actually liked having Ella around, didn't totally hate the feeling he'd gotten somewhere around the edges of his heart when she'd kissed his cheek goodbye. There was the smallest part of him that was starting to think a white picket fence wouldn't be so bad.

He'd known life would get complicated when he'd flown down for his father's funeral. Making funeral arrangements for a man he had no relationship with was the very definition of complicated. But he hadn't expected for things to get this problematic.

He hadn't expected Elena.

* * *

**And there you have it! Not as much Damon and Elena interacting as the last couple of updates, but a lot of Damon and Elena nonetheless. Let me know what you think!  
**


	9. Katherine

**You all are making it so easy for me to continue writing this! I love reading all of your reviews - thank you so much for taking the time to leave them. They mean the world to me!**

**Consider this a sort of "part one" of the next update. This and the next one will be a turning point of sorts but as the next one is quite long, I chopped it off into two parts. No worries though - there's some Damon and Elena in this one! I've got several updates ready to go - so much fun writing this!  
**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

Elena stepped out onto her porch with a smile.

"Hey," she greeted.

"Hey," Stefan replied, climbing out of his Porsche. "Looks like fall is coming early out here." He gestured at the lake, the trees surrounding it already starting to change colors in their very tops although it was just early September.

"It always does," Elena confirmed. "Fall seems to last a little longer out here too. In another month or so, this will be one of the most beautiful places on earth."

"Most of the time, I think you're crazy for living up here all by yourself," Stefan said as he climbed the porch stairs. "But it is beautiful out here."

"And peaceful," Elena agreed. "After all that time in New York, the quiet does me good." She opened the front door. "Come on, I just took a pizza out of the oven."

"You're feeding me?" he asked, following her inside.

"Technically, I'm feeding myself. It's lunchtime. You happen to be here."

"Fair enough."

For the next few minutes, the two old friends moved in relative silence, Elena slicing pizza, Stefan filling glasses with ice and sweet tea. Elena led the way to her patio, deciding it was too pretty of a day to spend much of it inside. She'd been spending most of her time out there lately, writing and reading. Talking to Damon. Settling into chairs, the lake in the background, Elena got down to business.

"So, what brings you all the way out to the lake?" she asked. "You were pretty insistent that we meet here."

"I didn't want to run the risk of Damon joining us," Stefan admitted. He looked guilty. Elena fixed him with a hard look.

"Stefan, if you're here to warn me to stay away from your brother…," she started.

"I'm not," Stefan said, cutting her off by holding up his hands. "My reasoning for being here is twofold but singular in concern."

"Twofold but singular in concern," Elena repeated, thinking over his words. "We're still talking about Damon." Stefan nodded.

"Have you seen him since the storm?" A few days had passed since Elena's night at the Salvatore Boarding House. Stefan had worked another 48 hours shift and had barely seen Damon since Sunday, but he hoped Elena had.

"No. I had a deadline for my new book and then a piece I had to turn in for the Mystic Falls Times about the founding families. I've talked to him several times though. Sounds like he's been busy, watching football highlights, closing endorsement deals."

"That's Damon," Stefan said. Elena couldn't be sure, but she thought there was the slightest hint of envy in his voice. He looked at her. "He likes you, you know."

"I like him too," Elena admitted, almost embarrassed. She liked him more than she wanted to. More than she should. But she wasn't ready to confess all to Stefan.

"I know you do," Stefan said with a kind smile. "It was pretty clear when you were sitting beside him in our kitchen, wearing his t-shirt and looking like you belonged there." Elena felt her cheeks flush. It had been years since she and Stefan were anything more than friends, but it was the still slightest bit awkward, discussing what was clearly a more intimate moment between herself and his older brother.

"Where are you going with this, Stefan?" she asked. She'd been dying of curiosity ever since he'd called to ask if they could get together and talk about a few things he had on his mind. The call had been cryptic, Stefan insisting he would drive the hour to the lake house rather than Elena meet him somewhere, not even at the small diner halfway between the lake and Mystic Falls. Stefan sighed.

"Damon likes you," he repeated. "I don't think I need to tell you he's known for a more – provocative – way of behavior."

"I'm well aware of Damon's reputation," Elena said, growing uncomfortable. Stefan had said he wasn't there to warn her about Damon, but it sure sounded like it to her.

"You realize that's all an act, right?" he said. "A way to protect himself?" Elena picked up her glass of tea.

"It's become fairly obvious that there is more to Damon than what meets the eye," she said. "He can be thoughtful and kind when he wants to be. Sweet even. And then he flips a switch and the bad boy swagger comes roaring back."

"Damon is self-destructive," Stefan told her, not bothering to beat around the bush. "Always has been. If you ask him, he'll give you a very different story about our childhood than the one I remember. He went out of his way to provoke our father. Drag racing, underage drinking… There was more than a few instances of pot smoking. He barely graduated high school, had the truant officer at the house at least once a week. I'm not saying Dad was perfect. He wasn't. But he tried to be a good parent – to both of us – even when Damon made it almost impossible.

"Back then, I thought Damon was just a rebel, living by his own rules, blazing his own path. Part of me envied him for that. Now, I realize he was acting out. He had demons, even back then. Dad would come down on him, try to make him do right, behave, go to school. Damon's answer would be to get brought home by Sheriff Forbes – I guess Deputy Forbes back then – for public intoxication. He hasn't changed all that much. Except instead of breaking laws, he sleeps around, drinks too much and throws around his money."

"I'm not sure where this is going," Elena said wearily. She knew Damon had a dark side, but Stefan was painting a more vivid picture than she was prepared for. Stefan sighed. He was about to get incredibly personal and was definitely about to overstep his boundaries. Damon would be furious when he inevitably found out, but he'd made up his mind and he was going to follow through.

"Damon won't like it when he finds out I've told you what I'm about to tell you," he started. "But I want to have a relationship with my brother. He's the only family I have. I don't know him well, but I know him well enough to know you're different. He treats you with respect. Hell, he's been out with you more than once. And I'm hoping the fact that you're different – that Damon is different with you – will ultimately help me." Stefan stopped and took another breath.

"Go on…," Elena urged, bursting with curiosity. Stefan looked nervous.

"Damon was engaged." Elena's mouth fell open, but before she could start to question Stefan, he hurried on with his story. "Her name was Katherine and she was horrible. Absolutely and completely horrible. I only met her twice but it was two times too many. She was rude and spiteful, completely manipulative. She was with Damon for his money. She was a model or an actress or something like that.

"Damon was head over heels. My guess is that he only saw her looks – I will admit that she was strikingly beautiful – and she was sneaky and manipulative enough to wrap him around her perfectly manicured finger. My brother can be pretty manipulative himself, but she beat him at his own game, tricked him into falling in love with her without returning the sentiment. I'm willing to bet a significant portion of my trust fund that she tricked him into proposing.

"Regardless, he was going to marry her. He was proud of her. He even brought her to Mystic Falls the Christmas before last. Dad didn't like her from almost the moment she walked in. He said she had a _cuore malato_ and an _anima oscura_ – a bad heart and a dark soul. He tried to talk to Damon, man to man, about his concerns. It went about as well as expected and they left almost as soon as they arrived. We didn't hear from Damon for months. I only knew he was alive by the occasional article on one of his clients he shared on Facebook.

"Damon came home early from a business trip, about a year ago now. He was trying to do the whole model husband thing, strike a balance between work and his personal life, be more present. Apparently they'd had a big fight because he missed some wrap party for a shoot she did and he'd promised to be more supportive of her work. He walked into their apartment thinking she'd be thrilled to see him and instead, found Katherine in bed with one of his clients.

"He was devastated. He let someone into his heart, let himself love someone, and they shattered him. I only know all of this because I'd been trying to get in touch with him, let him know Dad was sick again and that it was much more serious this time. He picked up the phone halfway through a bottle of scotch and just started spilling his guts. I'm not sure he even realized it was me. Or if he remembers doing it, because I had to tell him about Dad all over again the next day. He's been at his worse since."

"He had his heart broken," Elena said thoughtfully. "I've had my heart broke a time or two. And in the middle of all of that, he found out his father was dying. I can understand him being a bit – standoffish with people." Stefan shook his head.

"He's built up walls. He doesn't have friends, barely speaks to me. He was all business when our father died, didn't so much as tear up during the funeral. Instead, he got drunk and had a quickie in the closet." Elena felt a quick wave of jealousy wash over her as she thought back to the blonde she'd seen him talking to after she'd turned him down at the repass. "He keeps his emotions in check, covers them up with sarcasm. He doesn't let anyone get close." Stefan settled both eyes on Elena. "Except you." She shook her head.

"I'm no closer to him than anyone else," she said. "We've been spending time together, but he's only here for another week or so. It's not like we're going to ride off into the sunset together." Stefan drummed his fingers on the table, thinking as he talked.

"That's the thing. You've gotten under Damon's skin. I know you have. He's not obvious about it, but he has his tells. The fact that he's not bragging about how he's 'landed' you is one of them. I've seen him post about his conquests on Facebook, Elena." She made a disgusted face. "He's keeping you to himself as much as possible. He doesn't want the rest of his life – the life he has in New York – to taint you. He doesn't want you to see that side of him."

"I still don't understand what you're doing here," Elena said with a shake of her head. She was confused. She'd known there was much more to Damon than what met the eye, but here Stefan was, laying big pieces to the puzzle on the table. She wasn't sure what to make of it all and she knew she still didn't have all the pieces. She was taking mental notes as Stefan talked, settling on the fact that she'd have to think about everything later, once she was alone again. Stefan sighed.

"Do you have feelings for my brother?" he asked bluntly. Elena started at the question.

"Stefan, I've known Damon for less than a month and for part of it, I thought he was disgusting and vile and tried to avoid him. I like him, but whether I have feelings for him…"

"But you feel _something _for him," Stefan pushed. There were times when he still knew Elena better than she knew herself and this was one of those times. "That something may not have a label yet, but when you see him, when you hear his voice on the other end of the phone, you feel _something, _right?" Slowly, Elena nodded.

"Yes," she admitted. "Butterflies." Stefan nodded in agreement. It was clear as day to him that Elena felt something for his brother, even if she tried to deny it.

"When Damon inevitably self-destructs, I'm asking you to fight for him," he told her. "If, at that point in time, you still have feelings for him, fight for him. Push back when he tries to push you away. Don't let him ruin the good in his life because of his own self-loathing." Elena looked at Stefan for several long moments, thinking.

"You're trying to protect him," she stated, realizing Stefan was trying to help his brother through the one person they both shared some level of a relationship with since Damon kept him at arms length.

"As much as I can," Stefan agreed. "I want him to be happy. And you seem to make him happy. He just needs someone in his corner, you know? Someone willing to fight for him. He's not as alone as he thinks he is."

"You're a good brother," Elena told him seriously. Stefan shook his head.

"I'm trying to be," he told her. "But Damon makes it hard." She let out a short chuckle as did Stefan, both aware that Damon was difficult when he wanted to be and often just because he could be.

"You said your reason for visiting was twofold," Elena said, remembering what Stefan had said earlier. "What's the second part of this?" Stefan looked guilty.

"I need you to talk to him about me," he said. Elena raised an eyebrow.

"Talk to him about you? Is this like that time in eighth grade when you liked Caroline and wanted me to talk to her to find out if she liked you too?"

"I've been compared to a middle schooler twice since Sunday," Stefan replied with a snort. "I need to get out of the hospital for longer than a day and work on my social skills."

"Who else compared you to a middle schooler?"

"Damon," Stefan answered dismissively. "I need you to help me figure out why Damon hates me." Elena frowned.

"He doesn't hate you," she said with confidence. Stefan nodded.

"He does," he said simply. "At the very least, he strongly dislikes me. He always has. Growing up, I figured it was because I'm the little brother and little brothers are supposed to be annoying or whatever. But now that we're older, I know there's more to it. He blames me for our mother's death. And whatever animosity he feels towards me stems from that."

"Stefan, how could he blame you for that?" Elena asked. "She died giving birth to you. It's sad, but it was a one in thousands of women sort of thing."

"I know it wasn't my fault, but I don't think Damon does," Stefan replied. "Damon, he's an enigma. I try to understand him, but just when I think I'm making headway, he goes off the rails and surprises me all over again." He shook his head sadly. "I can't tell you the last time we had a real conversation."

"You talk," Elena insisted. "You live in the same house…"

"I don't technically live there, as Damon likes to remind me whenever he can, despite the fact that he doesn't technically live there either. We make small talk, trade barbs, but we don't talk." He chuckled. "I sound desperate," he admitted.

"Damon is the only family you have left," Elena replied. "I get it. I'd be doing the same thing if it were Jeremy. I did do the same thing, remember? In high school, after our parents died and Jeremy was coping with drugs and alcohol? I did whatever I could to get through to him, protect him. I won't make you any promises, but I'll try to talk to Damon."

"Thank you," Stefan said genuinely. Elena nodded once in response, then decided to change the subject before she committed to anything else Damon-related. She needed to think and she couldn't process any additional information at this point.

"So, how are things with you and Rebekah?" Stefan's face lit up with a smile as soon as the words left Elena's mouth. She grinned. "That good, huh?"

"I'm happy," Stefan said with a nod. "I'm really happy."

"I'm glad," Elena told him sincerely. "She's a great girl. And she loves you."

"I'm going home with her for Thanksgiving, to meet her family," Stefan confessed.

"It's getting serious," Elena commented with raised eyebrows.

"She has four older brothers," Stefan replied heavily, knowing he could reveal his fear of the Mikelson men to his old friend. "Four." Elena laughed.

"Nervous?"

"One of them is a rugby player. Another one is a lawyer. There's one that's a stockbroker or something like that. And then there's Kol who according to Rebekah, is a lost cause, but I'm anticipating that he can still kick my ass in the name of his little sister. And she's a daddy's girl. I'm screwed."

"They'll love you," Elena assured him. "Every mother wants her daughter to marry a doctor and fathers want them to find someone who will take care of them. You fit the bill, perfectly." Stefan leaned back and propped his feet up on an empty chair.

"Let's talk about something else besides my impending beat down at the hands of the Mikelson men," he said. "How's that new book coming along?"

* * *

"Bourbon or scotch, Mr. Salvatore?"

"Bourbon," Damon told the bartender he'd come to know was named Emmy. "Pour me two and start a tab. And don't call me Mr. Salvatore." He didn't bother to tell her to call him by his first name or any other name. He didn't care what she called him so long as it wasn't "Mr. Salvatore." Anywhere else, that would have been fine, even expected. But in Mystic Falls, the name only made him think of his father.

"Sure thing," Emmy replied. Damon glanced around The Grill while he waited. It was early yet, the bar and grill sparsely populated. A few high school students, released from the classroom a half hour ago, were scattered in clusters across the restaurant, snacking on fries and drinking milkshakes. He wanted to snort at how picturesque it was. He also wanted to embrace it. He was watching two lanky boys, likely freshmen, given their size, attempt to play pool when something hit him firmly in his upper arm.

"What the hell?" he said, whirling around to find Alaric sliding onto the barstool next to him.

"The women in my life can't stop talking about you and its pissing me off," Ric stated. Emmy arrived with Damon's drinks and he slid one to Alaric, making good on his promise to buy the first round in exchange for Elena's phone number.

"What can I say? The women in your life have good taste."

"Elena's all 'Damon this, Damon that.' Jenna likes to bend my ear about how she thinks you're a bad influence. And my kid? My kid thinks you hung the moon thanks to a damn stuffed bear." Damon smirked.

"Elena talks about me?" he asked.

"So I'm told," Ric said with a shrug. "I haven't actually seen her since the festival, but according to my wife, she mentions you frequently." Damon grinned as he took a long swig from his glass.

"Then I'm doing my job," he said smugly.

"She's my niece," Alaric warned. "I'd like to continue to think of her as the bratty 18 year old arguing with Jenna over the length of the split in her prom dress."

"Your wish, my command," Damon responded. "Although she did bring something to my attention that I would now like to bring to yours. What's this I hear about you winning drag races in that rust bucket you called a Mustang?" Ric laughed and the two launched into good-natured ribbing that turned into reminiscing and stories about what they'd done since their high school days.

They were halfway through a bottle of bourbon when Damon realized he liked this. He liked sitting at a bar, drinking with an old friend and reminiscing. He liked hearing about Ric's students, a few of whom had stopped by to take digs at their history teacher for enjoying an alcoholic beverage after a day spent with them, something they could do in a small town like Mystic Falls because everyone knew Ric was one of good guys, despite his penchant for fine liquor. He liked hearing about Ella and even Jenna and could practically feel how much Ric loved the women in his life.

He himself didn't have much to share outside of stories about work. He talked about his travels, about things he'd seen and done, but he had quickly realized he didn't have stories that involved friends. He certainly didn't have stories about his better half burning grilled cheese sandwiches or his daughter flushing blocks down the toilet. He had Super Bowls and World Series games, but those didn't seem quite as appealing at the moment. He was laughing as Ric vented about the high school's current quarterback's inflated ego when he heard a welcomed voice.

"Looks like you two are having fun."

He turned on his barstool to find Elena standing behind him. She looked stunning in a simple sundress, her straight hair in a ponytail. She was wearing little makeup, the smile on her face the only accessory she needed. He felt his own smile spread across his face.

"Ric is regaling me with tales from the hallowed halls of Mystic Falls High," Damon answered. "What could be more fun than that?"

"A root canal," Ric replied dryly, making Elena laugh. She knew he loved his job, no matter how much he complained about the teens he taught.

"What are you doing here?" Damon asked. He hadn't known she had planned to be in town. He would have made it a point to see her if he had.

"Caroline," Elena answered, jerking her thumb over her shoulder to indicate a small booth for two in the corner where Caroline was engrossed in what Damon felt confident in guessing were wedding magazines. "I had to go to Charlottesville today and she called as I was driving back. So, now I'm looking at photos of bouquets because apparently I can't drive _through_ Mystic Falls and not stop _in_ Mystic Falls.

"Sounds like a rip roaring good time," Damon replied.

"Does Caroline do anything besides plan her wedding?" Ric asked. Damon pointed at him and gave him a nod to show he agreed. He'd wondered the same thing. Elena looked amused at their agreement, knowing Caroline had been rather consumed with her early spring wedding as of late.

"She's marrying her high school sweetheart," she told them. "She's excited. She's allowed to be. She's one of those girls who dreamed about their wedding since they were little and now its all coming true."

"Still, she should take a breath," Ric said. "Maybe read a newspaper and give Martha Stewart a break." He reached for the bottle of bourbon between him and Damon that Emmy had left after their last refill and poured his glass half full. Elena looked at Damon.

"I was going to call you, let you know I was here," she ventured.

"And that's my cue to go check out the jukebox," Ric said, not willing to hear his friend hit on his niece when, as much as he liked Damon, he still hadn't decided where he stood on the two seeing one another. "I'll be back in three to five minutes."

"You were going to call, were you?" Damon asked Elena, ignoring Ric. He couldn't stop himself from reaching for her, putting his hands on her hips and pulling her a couple steps closer to him.

"I was hoping to accidentally on purpose run into you," she told him with a coy grin. "And here you are." He chuckled and glanced towards Caroline who was shooting a pointed look at Elena's back.

"And here I am," he agreed, turning back to Elena. He tucked a few loose strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear. "If looks could kill, one of the two of us would be dead right now. Caroline is glaring daggers."

"She'll live," Elena said. "But I should get back to her. Our food should be out soon and the stack of bouquet photos she has isn't small. Are you going to be here for a while?" Damon nodded at his bottle of bourbon.

"Ric and I still have a ways to go," he said.

"Just make sure he can walk out of here under his own power," Elena advised. "He has to teach high schoolers in the morning. And face Jenna tonight."

"Jenna already dislikes me. May as well give her a reason to," he said.

"But Jenna does think you're hot," Elena quipped. "So you have that going for you."

"Does she?" Damon asked, his eyes sparkling, pulling Elena another couple steps closer to him. "And what about you?"

"I think you know how attractive you are and use it to your advantage," she told him.

"Which didn't work on you, if I recall. You turned me down at my own father's funeral."

"For so many reasons," Elena replied with another flash of undeserved jealousy as she thought about the blonde at the repass. She could practically feel Caroline's eyes burning a hole through her. "I really should get back to Caroline. Don't leave without saying goodbye."

"I won't," Damon promised. She turned to walk away, but Damon caught her hand and spun her around again. With one tug, she was in his arm and then his lips were on hers. It was a brief kiss, but it lit her whole body on fire.

"Just making sure _you_ don't leave without saying goodbye," he said as he pulled away.

"No worries there," Elena reported, a bit dazed from the spin and his kiss. He let her go then and watched her walk back to Caroline, aware of the eyes looking in their direction. He couldn't bring himself to care. He turned back to the bar as she slid into the booth with Caroline.

"Nice little show you put on there," Ric said, rejoining Damon.

"Your niece is quite the siren," Damon replied. He toasted Ric with his glass of bourbon. Ric reached for the bottle again.

"And that's my cue to drink more of this."

"And I'll drink to that," Damon replied. "Cheers." The pair clinked their glasses together and resumed their conversation, the bottle of bourbon slowly disappearing.

An hour and a half later, Damon was by himself at the bar, nursing the last of the bourbon. Between him and Alaric, a bottle had disappeared, but his alcohol tolerance was so high after years of binge drinking, he barely had a buzz. Ric had gone home, citing his wife, child and an early morning, while Damon opted to hang around and wait on Elena. He glanced over his shoulder to check that she was indeed still there. She caught his eye and gave him a smile, held up a finger to say she'd be ready in a minute, and turned back to Caroline. He turned back to the bar to wait, The Grill largely empty now.

"Walk me to my car?" came her voice a few minutes later.

"Gladly," Damon replied.

He polished off the last of his bourbon and gave the bartender Emmy a half salute as he slipped off the barstool, his tab already closed out for the night. He put a hand on the small of Elena's back and guided her through the restaurant. He felt protective of her, even though he knew she could take care of herself. They didn't speak until they arrived at her SUV.

"You're driving all the way out to the lake this late?" he asked.

"It's barely nine o'clock," Elena told him. "It's not that late."

"But it's a long drive…"

"Damon," Elena said with a hint of warning. He sighed and nodded his resignation.

"You'll let me know you got home safely?" he asked. He hated that he worried over her the way he did. It was completely out of character for him.

"I'll call you the very second I walk through my door," she promised with only a hint of sarcasm. She reached out and played with the collar of his black button down. "I was wondering, would you want to have dinner again? Tomorrow, maybe? I was thinking I could cook for us at the lake. If you want to drive out there, of course." Damon couldn't stop the wide grin that broke across his face.

"Elena Gilbert, are you asking me on a date?" he teased.

"Sounds like it," she replied with her own grin.

"Dinner sounds great," he agreed. "And I'll gladly drive to the middle of nowhere if it means seeing you." Elena blushed.

"Okay, then," she agreed. "Around six o'clock? I'll text you the address."

"I'll be there," Damon confirmed. He smiled at her and closed the distance between them. He stopped just short of her, leaving enough space between them so they weren't quite touching. He could feel the hum of electricity coursing between them. "It's good to see you, Elena. Even if it's brief."

"Agreed," Elena said. She reached up and put her hands on his shoulders. "It's much more fun to see you in person. Not that I don't enjoy our nightly phone calls."

"I especially liked the selfie you sent me earlier," Damon replied seriously. Elena laughed, thinking back to the photo she'd snapped on a whim while she'd been out for a run around the lake that morning.

"Me covered in sweat, so attractive," she said.

"You have no idea," Damon quipped.

He wouldn't have been able to stop himself if he tried as he gripped her hips once more and closed the little distance between them, landing another searing kiss on her lips. She responded, her hands clutching into fists around his shirt as she pulled him into her. He walked her a few steps backwards until she was pressed up against the side of her SUV. She ran a hand into his thick hair, let the other one drift along his hard chest. Damon had one arm locked securely around her waist, holding her to him, the other resting on the back of her neck. He groaned when she parted her lips, deepening the kiss further.

"Whoa," Elena sighed when they finally parted for air.

"You are going to be the death of me," he breathed, his forehead resting against hers.

"Likewise," she replied. He kissed her forehead and then pulled away, keeping one of her hands in his. There was something about her that made him feel like he needed to be touching her whenever he was around her.

"Call me when you get home," he told her again. "And please, Elena, be safe."

"I will," Elena promised. She leaned up and gave him another peck on his lips. He smiled and opened her door for her. Once she was safely behind the wheel, he gave her one last kiss, reminded her yet again to call him when she got home, and then stood back to watch her pull away from the curb. He turned to walk down the sidewalk to his own car, only to find Caroline standing in front of The Grill, glaring at him.

"Anything I can help you with, Wedding Barbie?" he asked in a bored voice.

"She's my best friend," Caroline replied.

"Really?" Damon feigned surprise. "My guess would have been personal assistant or perhaps wedding planner." Caroline's eyes narrowed, but she let the insult go. She had other things she wanted to address.

"She's falling for you," she informed him. "I was all for her going on a date with you. She needs to step out of her comfort zone every once in a while and I thought you would be perfect for that – a devil may care, rebel without a cause kind of guy, only in town for a short time. At most, I figured you'd convince her to go to bed with you, she'd have an orgasm, and you'd part ways. But here she is, falling for you, despite her better judgment."

Damon swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry, his words not coming as quickly as they usually did. "Elena's a big girl," he told Caroline. "She can take care of herself."

"You better not hurt her," Caroline warned.

"Or what? You'll stomp on my foot wearing a pair of pink stilettos?" Caroline smirked.

"No. I'll kick you in the balls wearing my black Louboutins." It was Damon's turn to smirk.

"Barbie is tougher than she looks. Got a black belt underneath all those rhinestones?"

Caroline stalked towards him and looked like she was going to pass him before she stopped suddenly and grabbed him by the collar, surprisingly strong for her svelte form.

"In Tae Kwon Do," she confirmed. "And a fierce loyalty to my best friends too."

She let go of Damon and continued to walk away, her job done. He looked after her with a half grin on his face as he smoothed a hand over his now rumpled shirt. He shook his head. It was good to know Elena had friends like Caroline. Because even if he wanted to, he couldn't guarantee he wouldn't hurt her eventually. It was just what he did.

* * *

**It's looking like I'll be snowed in for at least a couple of days so stay tuned for the "part two" update, by Tuesday at the latest! And maybe leave a review to keep me occupied while I'm going stir crazy from being unable to leave? :)  
**

**I love how Damon is his same old self with everyone but Elena. There's a reason for that. ;) I keep forgetting how much further I am in writing than I am in posting - the story is developing quite nicely. **

**Thanks so much for reading! **


	10. Italian

**I said I'd update with "part two" of the last update by Tuesday. I almost made it - I missed it by 20 or so minutes. But its the longest chapter to date and I think those of you eager for more "Delena" will be satisfied. I hope you will, at least. I've been hard at work, writing away later chapters - this is turning in to one of my favorite things I've written in a while. **

**As I've said before, this story is just as much, if not more, about Damon's personal journey as it is about Damon and Elena falling for one another. Elena has been through a lot and came out the other side. Damon... He's got a ways to go. And I'm really enjoying writing his journey, some of which is seen below. **

**Thank you for being a part of it and for being so supportive - I appreciate you all!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

Elena nervously wandered through her house, adjusting a photo here, a knickknack there. She had spent the day cleaning, vacuuming and dusting in between a trip to the grocery store and baking a peach cobbler for dessert. She loved her home, but it wasn't remotely as elegant or elaborate as the Salvatore Boarding House. She had remodeled when she'd moved in, breathing new life into the home which had remained largely unchanged since her parents' death. She had purged their rustic country motif, opting for a shabby chic, French cottage-inspired look with mismatched flea market pieces refurbished during afternoons on the dock with Caroline and Bonnie. It was comfortable and light and as far away from the dark woods and deep reds of the Salvatore Boarding House as it could be. The view, though, she thought as she glanced out a window in passing, was hard to compete with.

Damon Salvatore had snuck up on her. It had been two weeks since their first date, three since she'd turned him down minutes after his father's coffin had been lowered into the ground. Somehow in those two weeks, he'd gotten under her skin, wormed his way into her thoughts and even interrupted her dreams with his piercing blue eyes and playful smirk. She almost hated him for it.

In her very core, she knew Damon. She couldn't explain it. She actually knew very little about him. She knew about his career and that he was a voracious reader, a fact she still couldn't quite comprehend as a love of literature went against the grain of the playboy façade he presented. She knew a bit about his family, more because of her time dating Stefan than from what Damon had told her, although there were still gaping holes she couldn't fill in. She knew about Damon's rebellious teen years and that he had an affinity for aged liquor.

But she didn't know how he took his coffee. She had no idea who his favorite football team was or if he left the top off the toothpaste. Did he prefer cats or dogs? Would he eat cold pizza for breakfast or pancakes for dinner? She didn't know how many times he hit the snooze button in the morning or if he liked driving or flying better. Did he drink milk straight from the carton, eat peanut butter straight from the jar? Own any clothing that wasn't black, navy or a white undershirt?

Then there were the big things, the mysteries that surrounded him. He kept his family at a distance, saw his father's death as nothing more than an inconvenience. He'd had his heart broken, a fact he wasn't aware that she knew about, and according to Stefan, didn't let anyone get too close. She'd seen flashes of the Damon everyone else seemed to know. He was the guy who so boldly suggested she join him in the coat closet at his father's funeral and who had been downright rude to his brother over breakfast. But she'd also seen flashes of another side of him. Somewhere in Damon was the man who shared cotton candy with her niece and held her in his arms during the thunderstorm. She liked that Damon, but she needed to reconcile him with his other half, the slick, fast-talking sports agent who boldly stated he always got what he wanted.

She had more questions than answers. She liked him and if he weren't leaving town, she would be sure about pursuing a relationship with him, seeing where things went between them. But his life was in New York. It would likely be best to cut ties now and save herself from the heartache that would come when he left Mystic Falls. She couldn't though. Because deep down, something nagged her, told her she needed to know Damon Salvatore. According to Bonnie whom she'd confided in earlier that day, that something was her very soul. And just as she couldn't prove Bonnie was right, she couldn't prove she was wrong, either.

The rumble of a car weaved its way through the trees and passed through the screens of the open windows letting in the comfortably warm late summer air. Elena glanced at herself in a hallway mirror one last time, ran a hand through her hair, and made her way outside, suddenly nervous. Damon was just pulling his Camaro to a stop next to her SUV. She stood at the top of the porch stairs, barefoot in a casual skirt and one of her favorite tops, and waited.

She had to remind herself to breathe when he stepped out of his car.

Her question of whether he owned an article of clothing in something besides black or navy was answered. His dark wash jeans hugged his hips, but it was the sky blue long sleeve shirt pushed up to his elbows that made Elena's breath hitch. The color made his vivid eyes pop all that much more, a stark contrast between his fair skin and raven-colored hair. He was aware of the affect he was having on her as he approached, one corner of his mouth quirked up in a grin.

"You look stunning," he said. He was equally as taken with her, with the whole scene playing out before him. She looked so comfortable standing there on her porch, as integral to the landscape of the lake as the lake itself. She had invited him into her world, offered him a chance to get closer to her. He was going to take it, his heart be damned.

"So do you," she replied, stepping down one stair. "I'm relieved to learn you have at least one other shade of blue in your wardrobe." He chuckled, not bothering to mention he'd bought the shirt earlier that day during a spur of the moment trip to Charlottesville in search of the perfect bottle of wine for their evening. He'd realized he had packed a number of dress shirts and white undershirts, but few things that were casual, comfortable. Those weren't typical adjectives that he would use to describe his wardrobe – or his life. He'd ducked into a shop to pick up a couple of things and the brighter color had seemed like the right choice. And, given Elena's reaction, it was.

"I'm breaking out of my color palette comfort zone," he told her seriously. He leaned down and kissed her briefly. "For you," he said, offering her the bottle of wine in his hand. She took it and studied the label. It was a fine red, made locally.

"This will go perfectly with dinner," she told him. "It's as if you knew I'm making Italian." Damon raised an eyebrow.

"You're making Italian for an Italian?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

"That may not have been one of my better choices," she said, biting her lip as she realized he was right. She would essentially be trying to beat him at his own game.

"It's a good thing I can cook," he told her. "I may need to show you a thing or two."

"Well, then. Follow me. I've only just started water to boil for the noodles." She'd started dinner late on purpose, buying herself more time with Damon. She led him inside, pretended not to notice how he observed everything around him, particularly her. Elena put the wine in the fridge to chill and just as she turned to Damon to ask him if he wanted something to drink, she was met with him reaching for her.

"You're really bad at these proper hellos," he said before pulling her into a deep kiss. She sighed happily against his lips, wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him even closer. When they parted for a breath, Elena shook her head.

"You have to stop doing that," she said.

"Doing what?" Damon asked innocently.

"Taking my breath away," Elena replied before turning back to the fridge to remove a few ingredients she'd need for dinner, embarrassed that she'd let her thoughts become spoken word. She didn't see Damon's eyes widen in surprise before he settled into a smile. He took a few of the items in her hands from her as she turned back to him.

"What are we making?" he asked.

"Cannelloni," Elena answered.

"I make a mean béchamel sauce," Damon told her. She looked at him skeptically. "And you don't believe me."

"Forgive me, but judging by the number of restaurants you've mentioned since we met, I have a hard time believing you know your way around the kitchen."

"Just because I don't cook, doesn't mean I can't," Damon quipped. He pulled out a bar stool from under her kitchen island. "Sit down."

"Excuse me?"

"Sit down," Damon said again. "I'm in charge now."

"No," Elena said firmly. "I invited you out here so I could cook you dinner…"

"And then you assumed that I can't cook," Damon cut her off. "I took that as a challenge. And I don't back down from a challenge. It's a nasty habit of mine." Elena still wasn't appeased. "Fine," Damon relented. "You make the filling, I'll make the sauce."

"Deal," Elena said although she looked skeptical. She started pulling out pots and pans while Damon opened the containers she'd removed from the fridge. Elena poured them each a glass of white wine, leaving enough in the bottle to make up what was called for in their recipe. Or at least in her recipe. Watching Damon, he seemed to have his own ideas for how the sauce was supposed to turn out. She shook her head and started melting butter to brown the ground beef.

They easily settled into organized chaos, talking about their days and the need to finish _Fight Club _as they worked on their respective parts of the meal. While Elena meticulously measured out everything down to the last fourth of a teaspoon, Damon haphazardly added ingredients to the sauce forming in his pan, pouring in generous amounts of white wine, shaking in spices and stirring the mixture as it thickened. He seemed just as comfortable in the kitchen as he did behind the wheel of his Camaro while she was tenser. She'd learned to cook over the years, but still relied heavily on recipes and measuring cups to avoid disaster.

Slowly, the kitchen started to smell of Italian. Elena removed the pasta from where she'd dropped it into cold water after boiling to cool down and lined the tubes along a cookie tray to be stuffed. She gasped when Damon came up behind her and pulled her against him. He didn't say anything, just kissed her cheek, let her go, and went back to his sauce. She smiled to herself at the simple gesture that she somehow knew was very un-Damon-like.

"Taste this," Damon said a few minutes later, bringing a spoon of his sauce to Elena, blowing it gently to cool it down. Elena opened her mouth and Damon carefully fed her, smiling brilliantly when she groaned audibly.

"That's amazing," she informed him.

"I know," he said proudly. "Told you I knew what I was doing."

"I do stand corrected," Elena agreed. "Where did you learn to cook?" From what she knew about Damon, he'd spent most of his time hopping from city to city until somewhat settling in New York. Even settled, she had the impression he ate out often. She doubted he even had groceries.

"My mom's recipes," he answered, leaving it at that. He mixed Elena's meat filling, which he taste-tested and approved beforehand, in with his sauce while Elena pre-heated the oven and started removing items to chop for a salad. They worked together to stuff the cannelloni noodles, both hyper aware of the other's proximity. Elena took over lining the stuffed cannelloni into a baking dish and Damon finished it off by pouring the remainder of the sauce the noodles and sprinkling it with cheese.

"I'll let you put it in the oven, so you can feel like you made it all by yourself," Damon said, his eyes sparkling.

"You're hilarious," Elena retorted. She transferred the dish into the oven, set a timer and perched on the barstool across the kitchen island from where Damon was seated, nursing his glass of wine. She picked up a knife, pulled a cutting board towards her, and started chopping romaine for their salad.

"You really do live in the middle of nowhere," Damon commented. "But I will say, it's beautiful up here." He looked at her. "The view isn't so bad either." To his delight, she blushed deeply.

"It's really not that far out of Mystic Falls," she told him. "There's a little town about 15 minutes away that has a grocery store and a pizza place that will deliver to the lake. And there are some chain retailers and restaurants, a couple of gas station, a laundry mat. It's not like I'm living in the mountains with no connection to society. People vacation here. It's a destination."

"Still, you're out here by yourself. You have to understand why people worry."

"People worry?" she asked innocently. She knew her family and friends weren't crazy about her living "so far way," but they had understood her reason for choosing to live at the lake house. When Damon said "people," she was pretty sure she meant him and she wanted him to say it.

"Yeah, people," Damon said. "Your family, friends."

"And you," Elena stated, fixing him with a knowing look. He looked uncomfortable, but shrugged his shoulders.

"Think about it," Damon said. "Like you said, people vacation here. Strangers. They could be the nicest people in the entire world. Or they could be a serial killer, looking for their next victim. The pretty girl living all by her lonesome without a neighbor visible for miles? Perfect target."

"You've thought this through," Elena quipped.

"I've watched a lot of _Law & Order," _he shot back. Elena shook her head.

"I'm perfectly safe out here, Damon. And on the McIntire Greenway."

"Agree to disagree," Damon said, using a phrase he'd heard Elena use with him a couple times. He finished his wine and noticed Elena's glass was empty as well. "More wine? The bottle I bought is probably chilled by now."

"Please," Elena confirmed. "The corkscrew is by the sink."

She watched openly as Damon retrieved the wine bottle from the fridge. She bit her lip as she observed his biceps move as he worked the corkscrew and uncorked the bottle of wine. He poured two glasses a third of the way full each and returned to her.

"For the lady," he said, placing the glass in front of her.

"Thank you," she replied, smiling up at him. He winked at her and returned to his barstool across from her.

"Why did you choose to live out here?" he asked. "As beautiful as it is, it's a complete one-eighty from New York. Not that Mystic Falls isn't, but it at least has a decent coffee shop and a police department."

"The lake has a security team," she told him, earning an eye roll. "I loved my time in New York. But when I was ready to move back, I needed space. I stayed with Jenna and Ric for a few weeks, but there were always people around. Caroline and Bonnie would just drop by when they felt like it. Matt would show up wherever I was to hang out or ask me to dinner. Jeremy was constantly around.

"I knew I wanted to be in Mystic Falls, but I also knew I wanted my own life, privacy. I realized the lake house was the perfect solution. I'd be close to my family and friends, but I'd also have my own life, time to myself to write, read, sit around in my pajamas and stream a whole season of a TV show without interruption. And some of my best memories of my parents are here. It helps me feel closer to them."

Damon was silent for longer than she thought he'd be. He absentmindedly swirled the wine in his glass, taking his time to digest Elena's words.

"How did everyone else end up here?" he asked finally. "Your friends, I mean? I'm assuming they left? All of them seem to have decent careers, ones that would require an education or at least experience they couldn't get here. I know Stefan's story – he's wanted to be a doctor and go to UVA since he could talk – but what about everyone else?"

He was asking as much for himself as he was to learn more about Elena. His mind had been wrestling with thoughts and ideas he couldn't sort out and he needed to understand how – why – others had ended up back in their hometown when there was so much more to experience outside of Mystic Falls.

"Matt is the only one who stuck around after high school," Elena told him. "He mowed lawns in the summer, raked leaves in the fall and shoveled driveways in the spring all through high school to earn some extra money. That's how he ended up with his landscaping business." A thought hit Damon.

"Wait. Donovan. He's our landscaper. Donovan Landscapes." Elena nodded.

"He has a monopoly on Mystic Falls and the surrounding area. He turned those lawns and driveways into a full blown business, does really well for himself. Caroline took off to the west coast. She went to USC, got a degree in business. She hated it out there almost from the beginning. I think it was because people made fun of her small town upbringing, but she'll say it was the 'vibe' she didn't like. She moved back the day after her graduation.

"Tyler, he went to UVA with Stefan. He had offers to play football at some smaller schools, but at some point during our senior year, he decided he wanted to be a lawyer. He just passed the bar exam a few weeks ago, works for a firm in Charlottesville. He'll probably follow in his mother's footsteps and be the mayor someday.

"Bonnie, she beat to her own path. She didn't go to college. She traveled around Europe for a while, spent a summer with me in New York. Caroline came too. That was a great summer." She paused to smile as she thought back on memories that Damon was sure were less that innocent. "She eventually ended up taking a position as the art teacher at the high school. She's brilliant, just left of center enough that the kids think she's the coolest teacher in the world – just don't tell Ric, because he thinks he's their favorite. It's an ongoing debate." She waved her hand dismissively, making Damon chuckle.

"And then Jeremy came back after college. He teaches too, physical education at the middle school. He coaches their baseball team and helps with the high school's J.V. football team. We all got a taste of life outside of here, for the most part, got to experience something bigger than Mystic Falls. But at the end of the day, this is where we belong. Caroline and Tyler and Jeremy and Bonnie will raise their kids here, grow old here. Matt will too, whenever he finds the right girl. Stefan, who knows what will happen when he finishes his residency, but if he's offered an attending position at the hospital, I don't see him turning it down. I don't see him without Rebekah, either."

"And what about you?" Damon asked, his eyes on hers. She shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips.

"I guess we'll see," she said.

She finished dicing a cucumber and added it to her bowl. She opened her mouth to turn the tables, intending to outright ask Damon if he ever saw himself returning to Mystic Falls. She was interrupted before she could speak by the sound of Damon's cell phone blaring out the same obnoxious rap song she remembered from the coffee shop. He quickly pulled it from his pocket and frowned as he read the display.

"That's weird," he mumbled as he stood and pressed his finger to the screen to answer the call. "Sorry, Elena, I need to take this." She nodded in understanding. "Salvatore," he said into the phone as he left the room. She listened to him walk through the house and out onto the front porch.

Minutes passed. She finished the salad and moved on to prep the breadsticks she'd purchased while in Charlottesville the day before, the idea of inviting to Damon to dinner just starting to take shape. More time passed and the timer sounded, signaling the cannelloni was finished. She removed it from the oven and placed the breadsticks in to warm. She was just pulling them out of the oven again when Damon reappeared almost a full half hour later.

"I'm so sorry," he said, his voice dripping with sincerity. Elena only had to look at him to know he had never intended to take so long. "That was one of my clients. He's been struggling with some stuff lately and apparently, he's checking himself into rehab."

"Oh," Elena said, surprised. "Is he okay? I mean, he's obviously not okay, but is he okay right now?"

"He's a good guy. Great athlete. But he has a habit of falling into things he shouldn't. Last year, it was alcohol. This year, it's drugs."

"It sounds like he's getting the help he needs," Elena said, not really sure what else to say in the situation. Damon nodded.

"To his credit, this is the first time he's taken it upon himself to seek treatment. Usually there's an ultimatum or a court order involved. I'm not sure how many more chances he's going to get." He shook his head. "Anyway, it looks like I have to fly back to New York tomorrow, deal with a few things." Elena nodded in understanding.

"If you need to go…," she started. Damon cut her off.

"Oh no," he said with a shake of his head. "Tonight, I'm all yours. My plane leaves late tomorrow morning and I'll be back late the day after. It'll be a quick trip, nothing to worry over." He had crossed the kitchen to her as he talked and placed his hands on either side of her waist. "Now, I didn't drive all the way out here or slave over that béchamel sauce for nothing." Elena smiled.

"Well, if you're not running off just yet, dinner is ready." She waved her hand at the stove. "You top off our wine glasses. It's beautiful out so I thought we could eat on the patio. Meet you out there?"

"Yes ma'am," Damon confirmed. He gave her a playful salute and in almost one motion, picked up both wine glasses and the wine bottle and departed the kitchen.

Elena let out a breath when she heard the front door shut behind him. He was going back to New York. Even though it was for a total of 36 hours, he was still going back. She'd known he would. What she hadn't know is that it would bother her this much.

* * *

The pair ate dinner in relative peace, the sun set over the lake providing them with a near perfect background. Before she'd joined Damon on the patio with their dinner, she'd made a valiant effort to shove aside any feelings she had about him going back to New York – now or later – and focus on being in the here and now. She'd pulled it off, the task made easy simply by how easy it was to be with Damon who told her more about his client. She found herself feeling sympathy for the young man who had been through a number of ups and downs over his relatively short life. She also found herself attracted to the fact that Damon seemed to genuinely care about the guy and was willing to fight for him.

When dinner was over, they cleared the patio table and Damon, at his assistance, handled the dishes, rinsing them and putting them in the dishwasher which Elena had to start because despite his confidence in the kitchen, it seemed he wasn't as domestic as he thought. They returned to the patio, each with another glass of wine, but at the last second, Elena took his hand and led him down the path to the dock where two Adirondack chairs sat at the end.

"Now this is a view," Damon said appreciatively, settling into one of the chairs. He placed his glass of wine on the small table between the two chairs.

"When I was a teenager, I'd spread out a towel, grab a book and stay out here for hours," Elena told him. "When I moved out here, I did that a few times, then decided I needed something a little more grown up."

"Good choice," Damon said. He leaned his head back on his chair and breathed in. The mountain air was fresh, clean. He'd forgotten what it was like to breathe unpolluted air. It cleared his mind, brought about a sense of peace. He opened his eyes and looked over to Elena. "You're quite the view too." She blushed deeply, sure Damon had complimented her more in one evening than everyone else combined in the last year.

"You're good with words," she said. "Which explains why you're so good at your job." He winked at her and reached over to take her hand. Resting their clasped hands on the table between them, Damon idly rubbed his thumb back and forth across her skin. Thinking of what Stefan had told her and her own need to learn more about Damon, Elena decided it was as good of time as any, their bellies full and a couple of glasses of wine down each, to ask him a few questions. "Damon?"

"Hmm?" he replied, pulling himself out of his thoughts to look at Elena. She'd caught him doing that a few times over the course of the evening and wondered what it was all about.

"How are you doing?" she asked. He frowned.

"Right now?" he replied. He quickly turned his frown into a smirk and squeezed her hand. "Oh, I'm just fine, Elena." She gave him a smile but shook her head.

"Don't play that game with me," she said. "I invented that game. Your father just died. How are you doing with all of that?" Her words were tough, but her tone was gentle and the combination of the two was enough to break through Damon's layer of wit and sarcasm.

"I'm fine," he said. "My father and I didn't have a relationship. We haven't since I was a kid. His death was nothing more than an ending." Elena frowned at the way Damon so casually talked about his father's passing.

"Stefan is pretty tore up over it," she ventured. "He's doing well enough, going to work, focusing on Rebekah. But he was devastated." She hadn't realized until just then that Damon hadn't, at least to her knowledge, visited his father as he lay dying from cancer. She added that to the list of mysteries about Damon.

"I think it's pretty clear that I'm not Stefan," Damon said, his tone short. He didn't release Elena's hand, but he stopped moving his thumb, his grip loosening. "My little brother is flawless. Me? Not so much."

"Damon," Elena said in an appeasing tone. She squeezed his hand. "I know you're not Stefan. It's just… I've lost my parents, you know? I understand that it's hard. You can talk to me."

"There's no need," Damon said. "I'm fine, Elena. I lost my only parent when I was six years old. That's the death that still haunts me. Not my father's."

Elena didn't know what to say. There was so much bitterness in his voice, anger he'd clearly held on to for a long time. She let go of his hand and stood. "Elena…," he questioned, realizing he'd been harsh. He didn't talk about feelings and all that went along with them, but he was also bothered by Elena moving away from him. But instead of moving away, he found her settling into his lap.

"I'm sorry," she said as Damon's arms automatically encircled her. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"You didn't," he assured her. "I get it, Elena. I'm supposed to be grieving or whatever. But Giuseppe Salvatore – he was a good dad. To one of his sons. You can figure out which one of us that was." Elena didn't say anything for a few moments as her fingers lightly trailed along his chest. She'd remembered something about Damon after Stefan had left her cabin, something she couldn't believe she'd forgotten until then, especially since it had happened just six months ago.

"Your dad thought I'd be good for you," she told him. Damon looked at her sharply.

"What?"

Elena took a deep breath, not sure how he would take what she was about to tell him. Of the things she did know about Damon, she knew he was unpredictable.

"About six months ago, when Giuseppe's cancer came back, I stopped by to see him. I brought Chinese food and we sat around eating from containers, talking about anything besides the fact that Giuseppe's doctors had just told him his cancer not only back, but was terminal. Stefan was there. Rebekah called and he left the room to talk to her.

"Giuseppe and I were talking about something completely unrelated when he suddenly changed the topic. He started talking about Stefan and Rebekah and how she was good for him. He liked her." She felt Damon tense slightly and remembered what Stefan had said about Giuseppe not liking Katherine. She dismissed the thought and continued her story.

"He told me he'd always like me and Stefan together…"

"Elena…," Damon groaned. She gave him a look as she placed her hands on his shoulders.

"Let me finish," she told him. He nodded, clearly uninterested. There was something about her and Stefan, she realized, that Damon hated. They had been nothing more for friends for nearly a decade, but it seemed the idea of them as anything other than acquaintances set Damon on edge.

"He told me that he'd liked Stefan and I together, but always thought we were too safe for one another," she continued. "Then he chuckled and said 'I wish you'd run into my son, Damon, while you were in New York.'" That got Damon's attention.

"He said what?" he asked sharply.

"He said he wished we'd ran into each other in New York," she repeated. "Apparently, he thought I could give you a run for your money – to quote him. He said you needed a good woman to settle you down. I laughed, shook my head and Stefan walked in. We went back to talking about whatever we were talking about. I'd forgotten all about it until just the other day."

Damon remained quiet after she finished her story. He'd idly started running his fingers up and down her bare arm, tracing a pattern only he knew. Elena let him be. She knew intuitively that he didn't need her to push him right then. He'd talk – whether about what she'd just told him or something else – when he was ready. So instead, she gazed over the lake and up at the sky which was filling with the first of the evening's stars as the sun sunk below the horizon.

"You think you would have liked me if we'd met in New York?" he finally asked. It wasn't that he'd asked her a question that made her tear her eyes away from the scene nature was unfolding before her to look at him. It was the tone of his voice, the undertone of self-doubt, that grabbed her attention.

"Would you have hit on me like you did at the repass?"

"Probably," Damon admitted. "Actually, I would have probably been worse. At the repass, there were witnesses, people who knew you, knew me. In New York, no one gives a damn about anyone else. I would have been a lot more brazen."

"And I would have probably told you to go to hell." That earned her a small grin from Damon.

"Like you did at the repass."

"I didn't tell you to go to hell at the repass," she reminded him. "I told you I wasn't interested."

"And yet, here you are," Damon said. He tightened his grip around her waist and pulled her towards him. "Sitting in my lap, kissing me."

"I'm not kissing you," she said in an almost whisper, even as he brought her still closer.

"You are now," he muttered, just before his lips landed on hers.

For the second time that night, things got heated, quickly. This time, Damon's hand crept further up her leg, sliding just under the hem of her skirt. She only pulled away when she had to, in desperate need of catching her breath. Damon moved around in the chair to readjust himself and then used his free hand to coax Elena's head to his shoulder, content just to hold her for a while. He left his hand under her skirt hem, however, idly brushing his fingertips back and forth across her skin.

"You're a hard one to figure out, Damon Salvatore," Elena said.

"Why do you say that?" He drew circles on her thigh with his fingertips, forcing Elena to do her best to ignore the sensation.

"You show up here, guns blazing, no regard for what you say or who you say it to. And then you turn around and tell me _Gone With The Wind _is your favorite novel and go all gourmet chef in the kitchen. It's like there are two Damon's in the same body."

"Don't be fooled by the literary knowledge and culinary skills," Damon replied. He nuzzled her cheek briefly. "The guy with guns blazing and no regard for others is a lot more like me."

"I don't believe that," Elena told him sincerely, boldly.

"Then you're setting yourself up for disappointment."

"Maybe," Elena agreed. She fell silent again, her gaze back over the lake. The sun had all but disappeared, leaving just a sliver of orange visible over the horizon.

Damon rested his cheek against Elena's head, the scent of her shampoo – lavender and vanilla – filling his senses. He tightened her hold on her so slightly he doubted she felt it, but he felt a physical need to have her closer. He hoped she couldn't feel his heart pounding in his chest.

He hated this. The metaphorical angel was on one shoulder, the devil on the other. The angel whispered words of hope, encouragement. It told him he could have something with Elena. He could trust her. He could possibly even fall in love with her, if he gave himself permission. He could have her in his arms like this whenever he wanted. He could let go of some of his worst habits and try to make Elena happy.

But the devil was there too, reminding him of the string of women he'd bedded in New York and the nights he'd spent drinking bourbon, waking up the next morning to not remember where he was or how he got there. It whispered about how his job took him all over the country, provided him with a lifestyle that would make most bachelors jealous. It whispered too about how he'd had his heart broken the one time he'd tried to love someone besides himself, reminded him that anyone he'd ever loved had let him down. Why even bother to fall for Elena, given his track record?

She shifted around slightly, trying to get comfortable again.

"You good?" he asked. It was growing chilly now that the sun had set and while he had long sleeves, she was wearing a sleeveless top and this time, he didn't have a jacket to drape around her shoulders.

"I'm good," she replied with a soft smile, tilting her head up to look at him briefly.

They remained like that for a while longer, Elena curled up in Damon's lap, her head on his shoulder, his arms around her. Neither of them were in a hurry to move. As it always seemed to, the scenery quieted Elena's busy mind, leaving her to just be. Damon, tired of once again struggling over what he was feeling for Elena, had changed his line of thinking, pondering what he needed to pack for his quick trip to New York and what he needed to accomplish while he was there. He tipped his head back, intending to rest his eyes, only to have them fall on something else.

"There are so many stars," he said. Elena looked up to the sky as well. It was an especially clear night and the black sky looked like someone had dumped a jar of silver glitter across it. She smiled.

"You don't see that in New York, do you?" she asked, remembering her early days in the city when she'd strained her eyes just for a glimpse of the moon. Damon shook his head, his eyes still on the stars.

"You don't," he confirmed. He tried to remember the last time he'd seen so many stars, but fell short. He couldn't explain why he was so mesmerized, but the scene hit somewhere down in his very soul. He drew in a deep breath and let it out before turning his attention to Elena. He removed an arm from her waist and rubbed his hand up and down her bare arm.

"We haven't had dessert," she told him. "You up for some peach cobbler and vanilla ice cream?"

"I could be convinced," Damon said. Elena slid from his lap, causing him to miss her warmth almost immediately, and then held out her hand. He took it and stood and together, they walked back to her house. They made small talk as Elena cut two pieces of cobbler and heated them to just warm in the microwave. With ice cream scooped on top, they sat at her kitchen island and ate, the conversation easy as ever.

It wasn't just the conversation that flowed. They had an easy way together, a comfortable routine they settled into when they were together. While cooking dinner, they had wordlessly passed utensils and spices back and forth, neither having to break their conversation to ask the other to pass the rosemary. They cleaned the kitchen in synchronicity and even while Elena cut and warmed the cobbler, Damon fetched two forks from a drawer before he sat down.

"This is incredible," Damon said between forkfuls. "It's almost as good as my sauce."

"Almost?" Elena asked. "Try better."

"Never."

"Those peaches are so fresh I practically picked them off the tree," Elena retorted.

"Practically?"

"Technically, I bought them from a roadside stand between here and Mystic Falls, but they were freshly picked at a local orchard. You don't get them that fresh in New York." Damon studied her.

"You're really throwing New York under the bus tonight," he said. "No stars, no fresh peaches… What do you have against the Big Apple all of a sudden?" Elena shook her head.

"Nothing," she said. "I'm just making observations. They happen to all be coming at once." Damon continued to study her.

"You're sad I'm leaving," he said, a slow grin forming. "You're going to miss me."

"I never said that," Elena said with a shake of her head. Damon's grin was full now.

"Don't worry, Princess. Two days from now, I'll be sitting right back here, with you. Or you'll be sitting across from me when I take you on another date, but the idea is the same."

"You're taking me on another date?" Elena asked with a small smile. Damon nodded.

"If I'm going to be in town, I may as well spend my time with the most beautiful woman the town has to offer."

'And there it is,' Elena thought. Her first sign that Damon saw her as a fling, a way to fill the time he was being forced to spend in his hometown. She arranged her features into a smile.

"And who would that be?" she asked.

"You." They traded a smile and Elena noticed the dollop of ice cream on Damon's lip.

"You have…," she reached across the island and ran her thumb across Damon's lip, wiping away the ice cream. He reached up and caught her wrist, his eyes locking with hers. Wordlessly, he stood and tugged her toward him gently, pulling her from her stool. She met him at the end of the island, their lips smashing together.

One hand buried in her hair to hold her to him, Damon kissed he with everything he could muster, a war of emotions raging on in his chest. Her hands slid along his abs, over his shoulders and into his hair, pulling him to her even as she pressed every inch of her body against his. He moved, taking her with him, pushing her up against the refrigerator. Tearing his lips away from her, he kissed along her throat, his hands starting to explore. Her sighs encouraged him, her own hands, still in his hair, holding him to her.

"Damon…," she breathed. He kissed her lips again and pulled away, resting his forehead against hers.

"I want you," he told her, throwing out any notion he had of being a gentleman. She leaned up and kissed him, took his hand.

Wordlessly, she gave him a look and led him to her bedroom. They had barely passed through the doorway before he spun her around and pulled her back into a kiss. He wrapped an arm around her and lifted her easily, her legs wrapping around him. He laid her down on her bed, hovered over her as she deftly removed his shirt.

All of her good senses had gone out the window. A small voice tried to tell her to slow down, to put the brakes on before it was too late. But as Damon slipped her shirt over her head and immediately lowered his lips to her sternum, she shut that voice down and focused on the feeling of his skin against hers, his hands touching her. She closed her eyes as her name slipped from his lips.

* * *

**Whew! That was a dinner date. I think its safe to say - given that I'm several chapters ahead in the writing process - that there is a fair amount of foreshadowing in the above.  
**

**If I find the time, I may write a one-shot of where things left off, but given the rating on this story, I kept it PG. I'll see what I can do there. :) **

**Please let me know what you thought - and I love reading your speculations about where the story is going, even though I have the plot laid out from start to finish! **

**Thanks for reading!**


	11. Rose

**I'm so glad y'all loved the last update - lots of great moments in that one! There's some Elena and Damon in this one as well, but there's a Damon scene I really love to close this update out. I really liked the character of Rose and her no nonsense ways. I wanted Damon to have a friend in New York and so - enter Rose. I hope you like her too. **

**Thank you all for reading. I say it every time, but I mean it. Your reviews make my day and encourage me to keep writing. I don't use a beta so I know there are the occasional grammatical and/or spelling errors, but you keep reading and you keep reviewing and I so appreciate that. So thank you. **

**Also, I _finally _got around to updating my author profile. It's kind of cheesy and I mention my dog more than what's normal, but it's updated!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

"Rise and shine, Salvatore!"

Damon groaned and rolled over, vaguely registering that there was something different about his surroundings. The bed was softer than his. The sheets weren't silk, but a high thread count cotton. They smelled different too. Like lavender and vanilla. Elena. His eyes popped up.

"Seriously, Damon, you still need to go back to Mystic Falls and pack. You need to get going if you're going to make your flight."

Damon rolled back over and blinked several times, his eyes adjusting to the bright sunlight flooding through the open blinds. Elena stood before him, fully dressed in running clothes, her hands on her hips as she tried to raise him out of his deep sleep.

"You always so nice to your overnight guests?" he asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Only the ones I like," she quipped. "Come on. If you move now, you might have time for coffee." Damon had no interest in coffee at the moment, however. Memories of the night before had come flooding back, causing him to smirk.

"I'll skip the coffee and have you instead," he said. He sat up then and grabbed her before she could move out of his reach, pulling down into the bed with him. She laughed as she crashed down on top of him.

"I'm all sweaty," she told him, his arms holding her in place.

"Oh, I remember," he purred, planting a kiss just behind her ear.

"Seriously, Damon, I just ran a 5K."

"After that marathon last night? My, what endurance you have." He kissed her again, this time on her jawbone. "What time is it anyway?"

"Just after seven." Damon frowned.

"Who in the hell gets up and runs a 5K before the sun is up after a night of great sex?"

"Me," Elena told him. She moved so she was lying beside him, her head sharing a pillow with his. "Your snoring woke me up and since I was up, I went running. I thought about waking you, but you looked so peaceful so I let you sleep."

"I don't snore," Damon stated.

"You do," Elena insisted. "But not in a loud, freight train sort of way. It's much more refined." Damon shook his head. Elena placed a hand on his cheek. "Good morning."

"Morning," he replied. Elena leaned in and kissed him then, a good and proper kiss that he felt down to his toes.

"How was that for a proper hello?" she asked when she pulled away.

"Much better. Although this," Damon kissed her again, making it a point to leave her breathless, "is how it's done."

"A For effort," Elena retorted with a sly smile. She pulled away and sat up. "But effort is all you have time for this morning. You flight leaves in four hours." Damon groaned, realizing she was right. With the nearly hour drive to Mystic Falls and the forty-five minute drive from Mystic Falls to Charlottesville, he was already cutting it close, given that he still needed to pack.

"Stupid flight," he grumbled, not ready to get out of bed – or leave Elena – yet. He was just working up the energy to sit up when his phone rang out from where he'd left his pants. Elena retrieved it for him, wordlessly passing it his way. He frowned when he saw Stefan's name on the display. "What?" he answered. Elena raised an eyebrow.

"What do you mean, where am I?" Damon said into the speaker of the phone. Elena stood by the bed, her arms crossed as she listened in. "So you're checking up on me now? I'm a big boy, Stefan. It's okay if I don't come home sometimes." There was another pause as Stefan replied on the other end.

"Good God, Stefan," he replied. "Chill out. I'm at Elena's." Another pause. "Yes, Elena's." Elena bit her lip, listening. "No can do. I've got to go back to New York. But before you get excited, I'll be back tomorrow night."

Elena moved, picking up Damon's shirt from the floor and tossing it in his direction, her body brimming with tension as she thought back to the night before. She had no regrets, even though she felt like she should. She was glad she had given into temptation, taken a chance and let herself just feel instead of talking herself out of something she wanted, just because it wasn't the proper thing. She knew she was nowhere near his first and the way he'd made her feel over and over again proved it. It was, easily, the best sex she'd ever had.

"I'll think about it," Damon told Stefan. He hung up then, not giving a goodbye.

"Why are you so mean to your brother?" Elena asked, tossing his jeans on the bed.

"He's my little brother. You have a little brother. Surely you understand how annoying they are."

"I like my little brother," Elena said with a pointed look. She started towards the door. "You get dressed. I'll pour you a cup of coffee." She was through the door when Damon spoke.

"Did you sleep with him?"

Elena reappeared in the bedroom doorway, not sure she'd heard him correctly.

"What?"

"Stefan. Did you sleep with him?" Elena looked at him with disbelief.

"Stefan and I have been nothing more than friends for _eight _years," she told him, emphasizing "eight." Damon studied her in his own right.

"You did," he said, knowing he was right. Elena sighed from annoyance and folded her arms over her chest. He'd slept with half of New York from what she knew and judging by how he'd spent high school, he'd likely managed to sleep with a good portion of Mystic Falls as a teenager. He had no right to inquire about her sex life, particularly when it involved his younger brother.

"We dated for nearly two years," she told Damon, deciding to be honest. "We were each other's firsts. _Eight _years ago." She once again stressed "eight." Damon smirked.

"He was your first?" he asked. "Oh, I'm definitely better in bed. Doubt Steffie had a clue as to what he was doing." Elena blew out a breath, not daring to let on that she agreed with his statement. She was done with their particular conversation.

"You need to get going if you're going to make your flight," she informed him. She turned on her heels and walked away.

Her abrupt departure made Damon realize he'd gone too far. He groaned and fell back on the pillows, thinking of how things would be a lot easier if he just didn't give a damn. This was case in point as to why he didn't do relationships. With a sigh, he pulled himself out of bed, got dressed and went to find Elena. She was in the kitchen, just finishing off adding cream and sugar to her coffee. Damon noticed the to go mug, the lid off and steam rising. He chose to view it as a positive that she'd still made him coffee.

"I was out of line," he said, stopping a few feet from her.

"You were," Elena confirmed. "Why does it matter so much to you?" Damon shrugged. He knew the answer. It was complicated and probably out of line as well. He didn't have time nor the will to fully explain it to Elena right then so he gave her the best answer he could.

"Sibling rivalry," he told her. It was the truth, vastly simplified.

"Stefan and I were together eight years ago," Elena said. "We were in high school. We were completely different people back then. We've both grown up, changed. There is no rivalry, sibling or otherwise." Damon only nodded, feeling sheepish.

"I'm sorry," he said genuinely. He approached her and reached for her, giving her the option on whether she wanted to come to him. He breathed a sigh of relief when she did, his arms enveloping her small frame. He found himself thinking of how he was going to miss this while he was in New York.

"I forgive you," she told him. "Just… Don't be so mean to Stefan." Damon pulled back so he could see her, but kept his arms around her.

"I'm not mean to Stefan," he protested.

"You are," Elena insisted. "He's your brother, Damon. And he's the only family you have."

"No he's not," Damon said. "There's Uncle Zach, nephew Joseph, Aunt…" he trailed off, unable to remember his uncle's wife's name even though he'd spoken to her in the days after his father's death on more than one occasion. Elena gave him a look that said he'd just proved her point.

"He likes having you here," she told him, running her hands down his chest. "I know he works a lot, but you should try to spend some time with him while you're in town." Damon looked guilty, but didn't say anything. Instead, he blew out a breath.

"Would it be wrong of me to assume that's my coffee?" he asked.

"It is yours," Elena confirmed. "I left out the sugar and creamer so you can fix it however you take it." Damon's response was to kiss her forehead before letting her go.

"I'll be back tomorrow night," he said as he poured in creamer. "Can I see you Sunday?" If he had it his way, he'd see her as soon as his plane landed. But the wheels wouldn't touch down until just after eleven and the rational side of him knew to wait until the following day. Morning, if he could swing it.

"You can," Elena confirmed. Damon smiled at her as he put the top on his mug.

"Good." He glanced at his phone which was beeping about a low battery and realized he really did need to get going. "Walk me to my car?" Elena nodded and led the way outside to where Damon had left his Camaro. Damon opened the door, deposited his coffee and phone, and then gave Elena his full attention. "Come here," he said, reaching for her.

"Be safe," Elena told him as she hugged him. He smiled into her hair.

"That's supposed to be my line," he told her, causing her to chuckle against his chest. He kissed the side of her head. "Thank you for last night. All of it." Elena pulled back and looked at him.

"Thank you," she replied simply. She pushed down the questions that threatened to bubble, ranging from asking if he'd call her when he landed to trying to define what the night before had meant. They moved towards each other, each making it a point to give the other a kiss they wouldn't forget anytime soon.

With one final chaste kiss to Elena's lips, Damon slid behind the wheel of his car, watching Elena walk back to the house even as he turned his car around to leave. She stood on the porch and gave him a little wave as he slowly accelerated down the driveway. As he drove through the twisting roads of the lake headed towards the main road that would lead him back to Mystic Falls, he tried to find the excitement he'd expected would come when it was time to return to New York.

Instead, he felt like he was forgetting something at Elena's.

* * *

Elena bit her lip as she read and re-read the paragraphs she'd just written, trying to decide which turn of phrase she wanted to use in the dialogue to describe the excitement her main character was feeling. She deleted a few words, typed in new ones, and returned to analyzing what she'd written.

"Turn that frown upside down, sunshine," came a familiar British accent. "You'll get wrinkles." Elena looked up and smiled at Rebekah. "Mind if I join you for a few?"

"Of course not," Elena said, using her foot to push out the chair across from her. "I haven't really seen you in a couple of weeks."

"I've been working ridiculous hours," Rebekah said. "We had a big fundraising event last night that needed to go well and raise a lot of money. I'm happy to report that both missions are accomplished and I can officially enjoy my weekend. Sans boyfriend as he just left for the hospital for another 48 hour shift."

"Cheers to the weekend," Elena said, picking up her latte and clinking it against the cup Rebekah held in her hand. "Not to the Stefan working part, but to the rest of it." Rebekah laughed lightly and took a swig of her macchiato.

"Do you have plans tonight?" she asked Elena.

"I'm babysitting," Elena replied. "It's Ric and Jenna's anniversary. He's whisking her off to some bed and breakfast a few hours away. His sister was supposed to watch Ella, but something came up so I'm taking over. But if you want to watch Disney movies and play dress up, you know where I'll be."

"How about I bring a pizza?" Rebekah replied. "We can watch _The Little Mermaid _until the wee one goes to bed and then drink wine and talk about boys afterward."

"I wouldn't hate that," Elena said. The pair traded a smile. Elena's tightknit group of friends had welcomed Rebekah with open arms when Stefan had brought her with him to one of their standing monthly dinners at The Grill, but she had bonded with Elena almost right away and considered her one of her closest friends. Rebekah knew she wasn't a Bonnie or a Caroline for Elena, but they still had a close relationship that Rebekah was grateful for.

"So, Damon spent the night?" Rebekah asked curiously. She took the pastry she'd purchased at the counter from its bag.

"Stefan has a big mouth," Elena mumbled.

"Oh, it was all very dramatic this morning," Rebekah said with a hint of sarcasm, a playful barely there smirk on her lips. "We were going downstairs to make breakfast and when we passed Damon's room, the door was open and his bed clearly hadn't been slept in. Stefan immediately started acting like a concerned parent whose child missed curfew. I told him Damon was likely with you, but Stefan had to see for himself. Hence the phone call."

"Damon wasn't thrilled when Stefan called," Elena told her. "Did Stefan ask him to lunch by chance?"

"He did," Rebekah confirmed. "But obviously with Damon going to New York and Stefan back at the hospital for hours on end, that didn't work out."

"I encouraged Damon to spend some time with him," Elena said, aware that Rebekah knew about Stefan's visit to the lake to discuss his older brother. "I wouldn't hold my breath, but I did my part." Rebekah shook her head.

"It's the guy version of _Margot at the Wedding _with those two," she said. "But we can talk about the dysfunctional Salvatore brothers later. Is it safe to assume you and Damon were intimate last night?" Elena had to smile at Rebekah's proper way of asking if they'd slept together. Although she'd moved to America when she was young, her British upbringing was still strong, right down to her accent and vocabulary.

"No comment," Elena said, but her grin gave her away.

"Elena!" Rebekah exclaimed scandalously. "Both Salvatore brothers! Good job!" Elena gaped at Rebekah's boldness, the proper British girl from just moments ago already a distant memory. Rebekah was well-versed in Elena and Stefan's high school relationship and to her credit, had never seemed threatened by their friendship which was more than she could say for Damon.

"I don't know how to respond to that," she said. "I mean, yeah, but…"

"But Stefan was a virgin and didn't know what he's doing while Damon is as far away from a virgin as a Kardashian," Rebekah said with a wave of her hand. "Hardly a fair comparison. Although I'd like to think Stefan has learned a few tricks in the years since you two dated." Her eyes sparkled while Elena's face grew hot. "But let's add that to the list of things to talk about after a round of Disney princesses, shall we? On another yet related topic, how are things going between you and Damon?"

"There's not really a 'me and Damon,'" Elena told her, picking at the muffin she'd been nibbling at since sitting down to work an hour earlier. "I guess we're just having fun while he's here." Rebekah studied her.

"But you want there to be a you and Damon," she said knowingly. Elena sighed, knowing Rebekah was someone who always seemed to be able to see through her.

"Maybe," she admitted. "I don't know. He's an enigma. One minute he's sweet and kind, the next he's telling me how he's not a good guy and I'll just be disappointed."

"I think Damon has a lot of demons," Rebekah said slowly. "Stefan says he's allowed you to get closer to him than, well, anyone in a really long time."

"He definitely has his demons," Elena agreed. Rebekah sat back in her chair, crossing her legs and fixing her blue eyes on Elena.

"Well, I happen to think you're just the girl to exorcise them," she informed Elena. "And I'll be happy to say 'I told you so' at your wedding."

"The only person getting married anytime soon is Caroline," Elena said pointedly. "And most likely, you and Stefan." Rebekah smirked.

"Stefan and I will marry eventually," she said with confidence. "But when you and Damon get married, I fully expect to be a bridesmaid."

* * *

Damon sat at the bar of one of his favorite drinking establishments in Manhattan, nursing a glass of aged scotch. He was a regular, known by the bartenders, even had a favorite stool. Tonight though, as he sipped from his tulip-shaped tumbler, he felt strangely out of place. The vibe of the place was low key, the reason he usually chose it when he needed to wind down after a tough day, but tonight, it wasn't taking the edge off.

The day had definitely qualified as tough. He'd hit the ground running as soon as his plane landed, stopping at his high rise just long enough to change from his jeans and t-shirt to a sleek suits before he'd showed up at his client's apartment, banging on the door and demanding entry. He'd spent the next few hours convincing him to follow through with his decision to go to rehab and then, once seeing him to the treatment center, had dealt with press inquiries and coaching staff. He'd desperately needed a drink when he was finally done for the day and had been greeted warmly by the familiar bar staff. Now though, he was contemplating calling it a night and heading back to his apartment with the hopes that a long, hot shower and a few hours of sleep would help.

He tugged at his collar. He'd long ago undone his tie and unbuttoned the top couple of buttons, but he couldn't get comfortable. He'd shed his suit jacket, thinking that would help, but it hadn't. The only thing that kept him from untucking his shirt was the fact that he still needed to look somewhat presentable in case any of his contacts showed up.

Blowing out a breath, he picked his phone up from the bar and unlocked it, scanned it for any new texts, calls or emails. There was a slew of unread emails that he'd have to get to at some point and a couple of calls he planned to return in the morning, but the only new texts were work-related. He hadn't heard from Elena, even though he'd texted her a couple times, once when he landed and again a few hours ago, and he found he didn't like it.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes, handsome." Damon turned at the familiar voice.

"No more so than you," he retorted. Rose winked and slipped onto the barstool beside him.

"Heard about your boy Enzo," she said. "Shame. Yet another trip to rehab? That'll take him out of the endorsement deal ring for sure."

"I see the good news has reached your jackass of a boyfriend," Damon commented. He took a long swill from his glass.

"It suffices to say that your misfortune made Trevor's day."

"Sad, really, that he's looking to capitalize on man's shortcomings in the name of a joint pain gel."

Damon took another swig of scotch. He actually liked Trevor Cummings, an agent for one of the biggest agencies in the sports industry. But Trevor was also his rival, consistently competing with Damon for endorsement deals and television appearances for their respective clients, both rubbing it in when they triumphed. With his wide receiver in rehab, Trevor's linebacker was practically a shoo-in to land a deal with a topical gel both of them had been chasing for their respective client for weeks.

"Because you didn't have a field day when one of Trevor's client got arrested for a DUI a few months ago," Rose countered. Damon smirked.

"I made a lot of money that week," he said. Rose rolled her eyes and ordered a martini before turning back to him.

"I didn't realize you were back in the city," she said. "I figured there would be pomp and circumstance when you returned. You always have liked the show."

"I'm not back," Damon told her. "I'm still wrapping up some things in Virginia. I just had to fly up here this morning to deal with Enzo. I'm flying back tomorrow night."

"So how is hicktown?" Rose asked. "I believe that's what you called it?"

"Mystic Falls," Damon corrected. "It's… Mystic Falls." He picked up his phone again and sat it back down in annoyance when there were no new texts.

"That's descriptive," Rose quipped. She uttered a thank you to the bartender when he placed her drink in front of her.

"The sole bar in town has good liquor," Damon answered. "And despite my father's many shortcomings, he did keep an excellent liquor cabinet of his own."

"Drinking your way through your hometown. Sounds about right." Damon smirked. Rose glanced around him, then made a show of acting as though she were looking for something. "What's wrong with you?" he asked.

"Where is she?" Rose asked him, still peering over his shoulder.

"She?" Damon questioned. Rose met his eyes with a knowing look.

"You always have a 'she,'" she told him. "Usually tall, blonde and not very bright. Yet you seem to be alone. Although if you'd like to change that, there's a table of cougars over in the corner by the fireplace." She really took in his appearance then. "And you're practically undressed. Damon Salvatore never lets people see him in anything other than a well-buttoned up suit. Who are you?"

"Long day," Damon answered, glancing at his phone once more.

Rose continued to study him. He tried to ignore her, checked his emails while asking for a refill, but she wasn't one to make it easy. She was the closest thing he had to a friend in New York. He'd hit on her during his early days in New York, then made the mistake of assuming she was a lesbian when she turned him down. She'd practically manhandled him into apologizing and once he had, she'd appointed herself his friend. Unable to shake her gaze, he finally turned to her.

"What?

"There's something different," she said. "I can't put my finger on it. The unbuttoned collar, tossed aside jacket, no she of the night… But those things aren't it. There's something different about you. What is it?"

"I haven't shaved and I could use a haircut," Damon retorted in a bored tone.

"No, that's not it," Rose said with a shake of her head. She was pondering what else could possibly be off kilter with her friend when his phone chimed. He snagged it, but not before she caught a glimpse of the photo on the screen. She watched as he grinned, pieces starting to come together.

Damon had never been happier to hear his text alert. Elena had finally replied, sending him a photo of her and Ella, both wearing boas and tiaras, Ella in a princess dress up gown and holding a wand, with the caption "_Sorry, this was happening." _Before he could respond, another photo appeared, this time of her and Rebekah, sitting together on a couch, laughing with glasses of wine in their hands as they snapped a selfie. She'd captioned it _"Now this is happening." _In response, he took a photo of his scotch and sent it to her, saying _"Drinking alone." _He figured she didn't need to know Rose was with him. When he put his phone down and turned back to Rose, she was absolutely beaming.

"What now?" he asked in annoyance, wishing he'd acted on his earlier thought to call it a night.

"There's a girl!" she said with far too much excitement for his liking. "You went to your hometown and found yourself a girl!"

"There's not… She's not…" Damon found he didn't have words to explain what Elena was to him. She most certainly wasn't his girlfriend, but she had somehow managed to pass through all his usual defenses to become more than his friend.

"Oh, you really like this one," Rose said, her eyes sparkling. "What's her name? Can I see her picture?" She made to grab for Damon's phone, but he held it out of her distance.

"Elena," he said. "Her name is Elena."

"Photo?" Damon just looked at Rose. "Oh, come on. I saw the picture on your screen. Just let me see." Knowing she wasn't going to give in and too tired from a late night with Elena, a flight and a hard day to fight, he opened the photo and passed Rose the phone.

"She's beautiful," Rose said honestly, studying the photo. "She has kind eyes."

"She's a good person," Damon said, repeating the words Stefan had used a couple of times to describe Elena. "Way too good for me." Maybe it was the alcohol or the fact that he was tired or just that it was Rose sitting next to him, but he let his guard down, not entirely, but enough for her to see over. "It's probably a good thing I live here and she lives there. It'll only be a matter of time before I ruin it."

"Don't think like that," Rose said, putting a hand on Damon's shoulder. "You're your own worst enemy, Damon. If you like her, make a go of it. It's that easy. The only thing holding you back is yourself."

"She deserves more than me," he replied, shrugging her hand off. "She deserves a man who can give her a family, a white picket fence. I can't do that."

"Why not?" Rose challenged. Damon just looked at her as though to say she already knew. She sighed. "Damon, you're a good man. I don't know why you won't let yourself believe that."

"I'm not…"

"You are!" Rose cut him off hotly. "Damon, you got on a plane and flew up here to make sure Enzo went to rehab and clean up the mess he left in his wake. And it's nowhere near the first time you've bent over backwards for a client. What about Harper? He was an inner city kid with a dead beat mother, no father and likely no future after he got passed over in the NFL draft. Then you swooped in, offered your services at no charge until he signed a contract with a team, and what happened last year? He signed with the Redskins and was named Rookie of the Year."

"That's my job," Damon reminded her. Rose shook her head.

"Your job is to secure multi-million dollar contracts. It's not to escort them to rehab and give them a place to sleep because they can't make rent." Damon swirled the scotch in his glass as his phone chimed with another text from Elena. _"That's sad," _she'd wrote. He fired back "_You have no idea" _and turned back to Rose.

"Every person I have ever let get close to me has disappointed me," he said. "My parents, my brother, Katherine… If I don't do something to screw it up first, it's only a matter of time before Elena lets me down too, most likely because she'll realize I'm no good for her. I can't get hurt like that again, Rose."

Rose felt her heart crack for Damon. She and Trevor had found him belly up to a bar the night he'd walked in on Katherine in bed with someone else. He'd been so drunk they'd taken him to the hospital for fear of alcohol poisoning. She had never liked Katherine, had never understood what Damon saw in her, but she had also never seen someone take a breakup so hard. She'd always suspected his reaction had more to do with his past and less to do with the actual loss of Katherine, but she'd never been able to confirm it. He had pushed away any thought of getting so much as a dog ever since, completely terrified of commitment.

"Damon, everyone deserves to be happy. And if this Elena girl makes you happy…"

"I am happy," Damon interjected. "I live in the greatest city in the world, have more money than I know what do with, a great apartment. And have you seen my Benz? I'm as happy as a damn clam."

"Everything you just rattled off was entirely material," Rose pointed out. "Material things are nice, but they don't make you happy, Damon. We both know you aren't as happy living this swinging bachelor life as you like people to think you are." Damon didn't reply. He just took another drink from his glass.

"Even if I did want to pursue something with Elena, I couldn't," he finally said. "My life is here. Hers is in Mystic Falls. Long distance doesn't work."

"It does if you want it to," Rose said gently. "Trevor and I did it for a while, remember? When he was in Los Angeles and I was here?"

"The real bitch of it?" Damon asked. "She lived here until last year. She went to Columbia, stuck around. She's a bestselling author for Christ-sake. We went to the same restaurants, attended some of the same events. If I'd have met her sooner…" he trailed off, realizing he was going down a dangerous path. If he had met Elena when she lived in New York, he was pretty sure his life would have turned out different. But he hadn't, and there was nothing he could do to change that.

"We meet the people we're supposed to meet at exactly the time we're supposed to meet them," Rose said. "I haven't seen you like this over a woman, ever. Give her a chance, Damon. Give yourself a chance. Everything else – the logistics, past hurts – that will all work itself out, if you're just willing to give it a chance." She downed the last of her martini.

"You're a pain in the ass," Damon mumbled.

"Best look in a mirror when you say that," Rose replied, slipping from her bar stool. "I'm heading out. When can we expect you to grace New York with your presence again?"

"I don't know," Damon admitted. "The reading of my father's will is on Wednesday. Best guess, I'll be back next weekend." He felt a small pit of dread form in the deepest part of his stomach.

"I'll see you when I see you then," Rose said. She punched him in the arm as she passed. "And remember what I said – give Elena a chance." And then she was gone, slipping through the thickening crowd and out the door. Damon sighed and signaled for another drink, deciding this would be his last one.

He had to give it to Rose. One of the reasons he kept her around was that she shot straight. She'd called him out on his bullshit from the night they'd met, had seen him at his worst and helped him pick up the pieces without expecting anything in return. She'd called him out on his fears, encouraged him to push through and give himself a shot at happiness. He took a deep breath, his mind racing as he tried to figure out what he was going to do.

A reply from Elena lit up his phone, breaking through his jumbled thoughts. He picked it up and studied it for a moment, reading the words _I'll drink a glass with you the next time I see you to make up for it. _He started typing a cheeky response, but stopped.

"Screw this," he muttered, placing his phone back on the bar. He took out his wallet, tossed enough cash on the counter to cover his tab and a tip, grabbed his jacket and his phone and headed for the door. Once he was outside, he unlocked his phone, found Elena's number in his contacts and tapped it to call. She answered after only two rings.

"Hello, beautiful," he drawled, a smile forming as he meandered down the busy New York City sidewalk. "Miss me?"

* * *

**So there's a little bit of Damon's New York life. You'll see more of it in later updates. As I'm writing ahead, I've realized this could technically be a trilogy, but I think I'm going to go ahead and post it all as one big story - an epic Damon and Elena tale, if you will. :) **

**I also like the character of Rebekah, at least most of the time. She'll never be the focal point of the story, but I'm planning for her to have quite a speech in later updates. So there's that tease. **

**Thank you for reading - let me know what you think!**


	12. Quarry

**A little bit of a shorter update this time, but I assure you its because the next one will be a big one. At least as far as the storyline goes. ;) **

**As I was reading your reviews - THANK YOU for them! - there were a couple asking for Stefan and Damon bonding. I had to giggle to myself because I'd already finished off this update. I think those of you who like the brotherly bonding will be happy. **

**But really, thank you a thousand times over for reading and reviewing. I'm sure I speak for anyone who writes anything in a public forum when I say it goes a long way with the encouragement to continue to do write and post. I'm really proud of this story so far and I'm glad you all are receiving it well. So yes, thank you again! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

"Where are we going?"

"You've asked that at least a dozen times since we left Mystic Falls," Damon replied, glancing over at Elena in his passenger seat. It was a beautiful day, mid-70s with no humidity and a light breeze. He'd put the top down on his Camaro before they left and he found that he rather enjoyed how Elena looked with windblown hair.

"I wouldn't have to keep asking if you'd just answer the question."

"It wouldn't be a surprise if I answered the question."

"Are you kidnapping me?" Elena asked. She was half serious, even with a smile on her face.

"I could if I wanted to," Damon said. He glanced at her again. "But it appears you're with me of your own free will, so that takes the criminal element out of it." Elena rolled her eyes as her smile grew bigger. Damon grinned and squeezed her hand which he'd held in his since he'd slid behind the wheel, letting go only long enough to shift gears when he needed to. He kept his eyes on the road before him which was winding through the mountains, climbing higher and higher with each mile.

He'd arrived at Jenna and Ric's just after the sun, eager to whisk her away for the day to some undisclosed location. He hadn't given her an arrival time, just told her when she'd talked to him just before his flight the night before that he'd pick her up the next day. She hadn't been expecting him so early when she'd met him at the door in sleep shorts and a tank top, her hair piled on top of her head. He'd merely grinned, wearing jeans and a gray t-shirt, and kissed her after making a witty comment about her pajamas.

Ric and Jenna weren't due back from their weekend getaway until late that evening and while Elena had arranged for Jeremy and Bonnie to take over Ella duty, she had a couple of hours to kill before they were set to relieve her. Damon had taken the delay in stride, helping Elena with a simple breakfast and then occupying Ella while she went upstairs to get ready for the day. She'd returned downstairs an hour later to find Damon sitting on the couch, Ella tucked into his side, sucking on her thumb, and hugging her favorite baby doll under one arm, her head resting on Damon's chest as they watched a cartoon. Without Damon seeing her, she'd snapped a photo before making herself known.

Once Jeremy and Bonnie had arrived, Damon had given her just enough time to rattle off instructions and tell Ella goodbye before steering her out the door and into his car. They had been driving for the last hour, Damon intent on not letting Elena in on where they were headed, Elena anxious to know what Damon was up to. He flipped on his turn signal and slowed down, turning onto a gravel road that most people probably drove past without ever realizing it was there.

"My kidnapping theory is starting to look way more likely," Elena commented, noting the desolate gravel road flanked by woods.

"Just sit tight," Damon replied. A couple minutes later, the road opened into a big clearing. Damon pulled to a stop and shut off the engine. "Come on."

Taking Damon's lead, Elena opened her door and climbed out of the Camaro, taking in her surroundings while Damon retrieved a bag from the trunk. They were surrounded by tall pine trees and in the middle of the clearing, surrounded by soapstone, was a body of water. Elena recognized the place even though she had never been there.

"Steven's Quarry, right?" she asked, falling into step with Damon as they walked closer to the edge of the water.

"Yep," Damon confirmed. He jumped up onto a set of rocks overlooking the quarry, set his bag down, and offered his hand to Elena. She took it and carefully navigated the slick stone to stand with him. To their left, a waterfall spilled into the quarry. Damon lowered himself to sit on the stone and Elena did the same.

"I've never been out here," she told him, her eyes still taking in the scene. "It's beautiful."

"I was hoping you'd see it that way," Damon said. "I figured my odds were good, given that you live in the middle of pine trees, but you never know. The whole kidnapping commentary had me worried." Elena smiled at his wit.

"I'd actually forgot about this place," she said. "I think there were parties out here when I was in high school, but I never went."

"I spent most of my teenage years here," Damon told her. "Usually during school hours, but those parties were pretty great too. It's a wonder no one died out here, given the amount of alcohol we consumed and all these rocks. They filled the quarry with water years and years ago, but this thing goes down a few hundred feet. If you fell in you probably wouldn't get back out without some help and I promise there weren't many people around capable of helping at most of those parties.

"So what, you not only skipped school, you skipped town too?" Elena asked. She was intrigued by the little nugget Damon had revealed about his past, no matter how small it was. He kept most of his cards close to his chest and the more time she spent with him, the more curious she became.

"Truancy officers were a bitch," Damon answered. "And there was always the chance I'd cross paths with my dad while I was supposed to be in English class. So I'd come out here, hang out until I felt like going home."

"By yourself?" Damon nodded.

"Ric came with me a few times, but I liked flying solo."

"And you'd just sit out here and do what?" Elena pressed.

"Think. Drink. Play my music too loud. Smoke too many cigarettes. Sometimes I'd keep it tame, pull out a book and lounge right here," he smacked the rocks they were sitting on. He reached over and took Elena's chin in his hand, ran his thumb over her lips. "You're the only girl I've ever brought out here." She smiled, noting that Damon seemed in wonder of that fact as he spoke.

"What makes me so special?" she asked as Damon's hand slipped along her jawline and into her hair, his eyes on hers.

"You're different," he told her, moving slowly towards her.

"How so?" Her words were nearly a whisper.

"I'm still working that out," Damon told her, just before his lips met hers. While Elena was ready to rip his clothes off and have her way with him, he maintained control, pushing down his desire with a promise of fulfilling it later in the day and with some effort, pulled away, not wanting to rush when they had the whole day ahead of them. He reached for his bag and unzipped it, revealing an eclectic mix of snacks.

"You packed lunch?" Elena asked with a grin, taking in the fruit, granola bars and a box of cheese crackers he had shoved into his pack.

"I intended to have a better spread," Damon admitted. "But the stream of dead daddy casseroles has dried up and there wasn't anything in the fridge with an expiration date that wasn't expired. And apparently, the one grocery store in town doesn't open until mid-morning. I improvised."

"Do you even know how to grocery shop?" Elena asked. She took out the box of crackers and opened them. Grocery shopping seemed like such a mundane task, something far below Damon, even though he had proven he knew his way around a kitchen and didn't entirely lack domestic skills.

"You go in a store, pick cart and fill it with food. It's not hard."

"Fine. You know how to grocery shop. But do you _actually _grocery shop?"

"No," Damon admitted with a sheepish half grin. He reached for the crackers. "My fridge in New York has a couple of beers, a bottle of hot sauce and a jar of mayonnaise that probably has a layer of mold growing on it. I left a carton of Chinese in there before I flew down here for the funeral, so that smelled great when I opened the door yesterday."

"No groceries and yet you're practically a gourmet chef," Elena teased.

"I'm a man of many talents," Damon replied, smirking. He leaned back on his elbows, watching Elena as she continued to take in the scenery, idly munching on crackers. She was stunning, her long hair with the slightest of waves from her hurried attempted at straightening it while he waited downstairs blowing gently around her. She looked comfortable, relaxed. And he couldn't get enough of her. "I missed you, you know." She turned to him.

"You missed me?" she asked, a hint of disbelief coloring her tone. Damon nodded.

"I did," he admitted, as much to her as to himself. "I realized it while sitting at the bar downing scotch and checking my phone for text messages. It was actually a pretty pathetic moment in my life." Elena laughed and sat the box of crackers aside.

"I may have missed you too," she said, moving so she was also resting on her elbows.

"In between all that wine you consumed with Rebekah?" he asked playfully. Elena ran a hand down his chest.

"Of course. You left me with fond memories of Thursday night," she told him. "It made me eager for a repeat performance." Damon decided later was now.

"A repeat performance?" he asked as he moved so he was hovering over her. "I think we can manage that." She smiled and pulled him down to her, not a thought in her mind in that moment other than how much she wanted the man above her.

* * *

Damon studied the handwritten lines of the leather bound book open in front of him, slowly running his finger down the page, pausing every once in a while to re-read a line or make out a word that had been smudged by years gone by. He flipped the page and continued reading, engrossed in the documents before him. With his email caught up and no more conference calls scheduled for the day, he'd taken to pouring over old mill records to fill his time. He vaguely registered the front door opening and closing and heard Stefan's footsteps making their way to the kitchen where Damon had set up shop.

"Hey," Damon greeted, barely glancing up from the books.

"Hey," Stefan replied, surprised when Damon spoke first. He stopped on his way to the fridge when he realized what Damon was doing. "Dad's old records from the mill?" he asked, picking up a book and opening it to a random page. The date was May 26, 1958 and there had been a large delivery of cedar that day.

"Yeah," Damon confirmed as he turned the page again. "You been out there lately?"

"No," Stefan admitted, flipping the page in the book he'd picked up. "It's probably been two years since I did anything other than stop at the office to talk to Dad."

"I went out there last week," Damon told him. "A guy named Pete showed me around. It's impressive." He continued flipping through the book. "They wrote down every single tree that came through there back in the 40s. Doesn't make much sense as to why, but no one can say Salvatore timber didn't document everything. Looks like they stopped logging individual trees and went to trailer loads in '48."

"It's all computerized now, right?" Stefan asked. He put his book down and resumed his walk to the fridge, set on a beer after a long day at the hospital.

"Since '04," Damon confirmed. "Apparently someone lost an arm right before Thanksgiving in '03 and that inspired our old man to go digital, get his men off the line and stop feeding wood through the saws by hand."

"I remember that," Stefan said as he pulled open the fridge. "There was a lawsuit."

"Dad won," Damon replied. "They proved negligence on the man's part. But Salvatore Timber still covered his medical expenses and gave his family a tidy sum to get them through the holidays." He shut his book and stretched his arms over his head, realizing he'd been reading over them for a couple of hours now.

"I guess Dad figured that was the right thing to do," Stefan said. Damon realized Stefan was looking through the fridge in search of food. He heard Elena's voice in his mind, encouraging him to be nicer to his brother, attempt to bond with him. He groaned inwardly as he bit the metaphorical bullet.

"Want to get some dinner?" he asked. Stefan stopped and turned towards Damon.

"What?" he asked, surprised for the second time in minutes. He wasn't sure he'd heard his older brother correctly.

"Dinner," Damon repeated. "There's this burger and beer garden place on the edge of town that's supposed to be pretty good."

"The Pharmacy," Stefan told him with a nod of recognition. "A guy I went to high school with owns it. It lives up to its billing."

"So how about it?" Damon asked. "Not sure if you've figured it out yet, but there's not much here that's not a granola bar or a mealy apple."

"Let me run upstairs and change out of my scrubs," Stefan told him.

"Make it snappy," Damon replied. "I'm hungry." Stefan rolled his eyes and started out of the kitchen. "And don't bother with taking time to fix your hair," Damon called after him. "You're in a relationship now. It's okay to let yourself go."

"Be back in five minutes, tops," Stefan shot back. He was surprised by Damon's sudden change in attitude, but he had a pretty good idea as to what – or rather who – was behind it. He hurried upstairs and quickly changed into jeans and a t-shirt. Then, for spite, he ran some gel through his hair to return the front to its usual poof. He returned downstairs to find Damon pocketing his wallet and cell phone.

"Well done with the quick change," Damon quipped. He reached out and patted Stefan's freshly gelled hair. "Let's go. I'm driving."

"Why do you get to drive?" Stefan asked, following his brother to the garage.

"I'm older."

"Fine. But I have the better car." Damon scoffed.

"Hardly," he replied. "My Camaro is pure American muscle." They climbed into Damon's car, their argument over foreign versus American-made cars continuing the entire drive to the restaurant.

* * *

Damon had to give credit where credit was due. The Pharmacy had lived up to its reputation. He and Stefan had opted to sit outside, their picnic table now littered with peanut hulls, plates loaded with burgers and fries and empty beer bottles. The place only offered locally produced beers and Stefan had turned out to be knowledgeable about the local breweries, giving Damon recommendations which had proved to be spot on and earning himself a touch more of Damon's respect in the process.

"This is dangerously good," Damon commented, turning up his second bottle of Jomo.

"You should try the Snow Blind. It's seasonal – won't come out until around Thanksgiving – but damn, it's good."

"I'll keep it in mind," Damon said. He took a big bite of his burger which, he'd learned from their waitress as she'd given her standard spill about the menu, was 100% sourced locally. It was easily one of the best burgers he'd ever had.

"How was New York?" Stefan asked. So far, they had managed to keep conversation flowing and civil, no snide comments or low blows exchanged. It was a feat for Stefan, a near miracle for Damon.

"It was New York," Damon answered with a shrug. "I flew in, took care of business and flew right back out." He took another swig of his beer. "But it was loud," he added, remembering how annoyed he'd been by the constant hum of the city, something he'd never paid much mind to before, merely raising his voice to be heard if he were on the streets and letting the medley of traffic, horns and sirens lull him to sleep at night. "Mystic Falls is so quiet that the streets sounded like a U2 concert turned up to 11."

Their waitress appeared, asking if they needed anything. They both requested another beer, an unspoken agreement passing between them that it would be their third and final one, at least until they got home.

"Where's the British babe at tonight?" Damon asked. "Figured you'd want to be with your hot girlfriend instead of your hot brother after another 48 hour shift."

"Her name is Rebekah," Stefan told him pointedly. "Stop calling her the 'British Babe.' It's rude."

"Or it's a compliment," Damon said with a shrug. "I'm just saying – she's not ugly." Stefan rolled his eyes.

"She had a work thing tonight," he said, answering Damon's question. "She works in fundraising for UVA. They were having some reception or something for alumni of the art department."

"You planning on sticking with her?" Damon asked. He silently wished Elena were around right then to witness him making an effort to bond with his brother. He'd be sure to give her a detailed recap.

"I mean, yeah," Stefan said with a shrug. "I love her, you know? We've been together for almost a year and it's been good. She understands my crazy work hours, supports me in what I do. I'm actually going to spend Thanksgiving with her family."

"Where's she from?"

"Surrey, originally, but her family moved to Chicago when she was nine for her dad's job and they've been there ever since. She's got four brothers. They'll probably kick my ass, just because. One of them plays rugby so I'm guessing he'll be most likely to deliver the fatal blow." Damon smirked, fitting together a few facts to come to a realization.

"Her last name is Mikelson, right?" Stefan nodded and Damon outright laughed.

"What?" Stefan demanded.

"The rugby player brother? His name is Flynn Mikelson. I don't know much about rugby, but I do know he's got a reputation for being ruthless. You're screwed if you mess with his little sister."

"Thanks, Damon, that just made me feel a hundred times better about meeting her entire family."

"You're welcome," Damon said, working his way through the large portion of fries on his plate.

"What about you and Elena?" Stefan asked. "What's going on there?"

Damon's first reaction was to tell Stefan to mind his own business or else that there was nothing going on with him and Elena. But he stopped himself, realizing that there was something going on between them and Stefan may actually prove to be beneficial. He knew Elena well, after all, a fact Damon was still trying to reconcile, and he was a relationship kind of guy. His brother might actually have something to offer.

"It's – complicated," Damon said. "Not in a bad way, exactly, just…" His words failed him as he tried to figure out how to explain what was going on between him and Elena.

"Just complicated," Stefan said with an understanding nod. "I get it. She lives here, you live in New York. And, to point out the obvious, relationships aren't your strong suit." Damon checked himself before retorting with something defensive – or offensive – regarding his experience in being half of a couple.

"She's pretty great," he admitted instead. "She's beautiful, but she's also smart, successful. Compassionate."

"She likes you too, you know," Stefan told him. "She and Rebekah spent all of Friday night discussing their respective Salvatore. She's yours to lose, brother."

"What'd she say about me?" Damon asked curiously. "And why did Rebekah tell you, anyway? Isn't there a girl code or something?"

"I don't know about the girl code, but she just told Rebekah that she liked you. You've gotten under her skin. She sees past some of your more…" he faltered, trying to find the right words to describe Damon's less than attractive habits without upsetting Damon.

"Questionable behavior," Damon supplied.

"Questionable behavior," Stefan repeated with a nod. "She thinks you're a good guy under all that big city swagger." Damon didn't respond, keeping his eyes on his plate of food as he ate. He was having trouble relating to the fact that Elena saw him as a good person when he saw himself as damaged and reckless.

"You ever consider moving back here?" Stefan asked. He knew it was a bold question, but it was one he had to ask. Damon hesitated before he responded.

"No," he said honestly. Because he hadn't considered it, at least not seriously. "But I never say never. I've learned life is unpredictable. You can make all the plans in the world until one big wrench comes along and screws them all up." Stefan nodded, wondering if Elena could possibly be one of the wrenches Damon was speaking of. Since he was already asking difficult questions, he decided he'd take the plunge and ask the hardest one of all.

"You ready for the reading of Dad's will tomorrow?"

"Should be pretty straightforward," Damon said with a shrug. "Chester will read a document, you'll get a house or two, maybe the lumberyard, surely a ton of cash. And then I can relinquish my executor duties and resume a normal life."

"Damon, in all seriousness, what makes you think you're written out of Dad's will?"

"Stefan, you're an adult now. Surely I don't need to explain to you all the ways and all the times that our father proved he only gave a damn about one of us." Stefan shook his head sadly.

"That's not true, Damon," he said. "He loved you. He was proud of the man you've become. He'd have told you himself if you'd given him the chance."

"I've long since accepted the fact that you believe Giuseppe Salvatore walked on water," Damon said, his tone turning cold. "Consider this topic closed for conversation." Stefan pierced his lips and nodded, downing the rest of his beer. He reached for the fresh one the waitress had just deposited on their table.

"So, how about the Redskins? Think they've got a chance this year?"

"A snowball's chance in hell," Damon replied, running with the change in topic. "But Harper James will have a good year."

Knowing his window talking about anything significant with Damon had passed, Stefan continued with the sports talk and kept things superficial for the remainder of dinner, even managing to carry it through the ride home, taking advantage of the fact that Damon knew a significant amount about some of his favorite teams to pick his brain.

As they pulled into the garage of the Salvatore Boarding House, however, the usual tension between the brothers started to fill back in.

"I'm going to call Rebekah," Stefan said, ending an argument over who was the best running back in the AFC. "Thanks for picking up the tab."

"Harper James was mentioned," Damon replied. "It's now a business meeting I can deduct from my taxes." Stefan shook his head as he got out of the car and headed inside. He unlocked the phone to call Rebekah but before he dialed, he texted Elena.

_Just had dinner with Damon and everyone survived. I owe you one._

* * *

**Remember, I live almost exactly where the fictitious Mystic Falls is believed to be on a map of Virginia. There are TONS of quarries around here, all filled with water after they had been maxed out. I thought it was pretty cool to incorporate a little bit of my town's soapstone history into the story. :) **

**Thanks for reading - please let me know what you think!**


	13. Chester

**Well, here we go. This is the scene I dreamed up sitting at work one day - the reading of the will and subsequent fall out - that inspired me to write this fanfic in the first place. I've built everything that has happened and will happen around this and I'm ultimately pretty happy with how its turned out. **

**I'd like to apologize for not updating over the weekend. I try to update once on the weekends and once mid-week, given how far ahead I've written this story - but to be honest, I did absolutely _nothing _this weekend. It was rather embarrassing, just how lazy I was. At least I went to my Pure Barre classes?**

**Thank you to each and every one of you for reading and especially for reviewing. I _love _reading your thoughts, your speculations, your questions. Please, by all means, keep them coming! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries. I just day dream while writing advertising copy.**

* * *

Damon studied his appearance in his bathroom mirror. He adjusted his tie and ran a comb through his hair to smooth a few strays into place. He'd actually bothered with styling it that morning, something he hadn't done since his father's funeral although he'd been one to comb his hair into place each morning before hitting the streets of New York to tackle his day. He hadn't felt the need to worry with it in Mystic Falls. As he straightened his jacket, he assumed it was ironic in some way that he'd opted to wear the same suit he'd donned for his father's funeral. Satisfied with his appearance, he left the bathroom, picked up his keys and he made his way downstairs and out the door, noting that Stefan's car was already gone. Once he was on the road, he called Elena.

"Hey," she greeted.

"Hey," he replied. Elena could hear the anxiety in his voice that he was working to hide from her. "You sitting around, being beautiful?"

"Well, I'm sitting around," Elena admitted. "I haven't actually gotten out of bed yet." Damon groaned.

"Don't tease."

"I should have gotten up and gone for a run this morning, but someone wouldn't let me."

"Such a jackass," Damon replied. "Keeping a girl from her run. I'd never do something like that."

"No, never," Elena agreed seriously, getting a chuckle out of Damon.

He had ended up driving out to the lake after he'd gotten home from dinner with Stefan. He hadn't seen Elena the day before and he knew he likely wouldn't get to see her the next day and so, rather than go three days without her, he had taken a chance and shown up at her door unannounced. To his relief, she'd been happy to see him. They had sat on the dock for a while, talking about nothing of importance, and then returned inside to watch some TV show she'd recorded that had him rolling his eyes within the first few minutes. When the credits rolled, they had fallen into bed where they'd stayed, wrapped up in one another until Damon had to leave to get ready for the reading of his father's will.

"I'd say you still got in your cardio," Damon mused, recalling some of the highlights from the night before.

"At least some endurance training," Elena quipped. Then she got serious. "You okay?" Damon sighed. He couldn't get used to the fact that Elena genuinely seemed to care, that she actually worried about him.

"I'm okay," he said, even though they both knew he was lying. "I'm just ready to get this over with."

"And then what?" Elena asked.

"That, Princess, is the million dollar question," Damon muttered. With the reading of the will, he would have decisions to make, most of which involved Elena. He couldn't let her go, but he wasn't sure if he could hold on to her either with the lifestyle he led.

"Everything will be fine," Elena soothed.

"You make me want to believe you," Damon replied as he pulled along the curb of Chester's office. "I'm here. I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay," Elena agreed. "I may be out of bed by then." Damon smirked.

"Stay put," he said. "Or don't. Either way, I know how I'll be picturing you."

"Goodbye, Damon," Elena said. He could practically hear her rolling her eyes, a smile on her face.

"Bye, Lena," he replied.

Ending the call, he took a deep breath and forced himself out of the car. He felt his defenses building with each step he took along Chester's sidewalk, all traces of the peaceful feeling he'd had when he'd woken up with Elena that morning replaced by everything from anxiety to guilt. Inside, the receptionist pointed him down a hallway. Pausing outside Chester's office, he took a moment to steel himself against what was to come and pull his iron mask firmly in place before he entered the office.

"Damon!" Chester greeted. He was a jolly older man, as round as he was tall. Balding with a short, well-groomed beard, he wore gold wire framed glasses and sat proudly in a gaudy velvet armchair. He reminded Damon of an owl. Stefan was already there, seated on an equally gaudy loveseat, dressed in a pinstriped gray suit and wringing his hands. Damon scoffed to himself, thinking of everyone in the room, Stefan was the last one that should show any sense of nervousness. "Good to see you m'boy!" Chester continued. "How have you been?"

"Let's fast forward over the small talk and get this over with," Damon quipped, folding his frame into the other velvet armchair. Given the lawyer's retainer fee, surely he could have afforded some better furniture.

"Oh," Chester stumbled, surprised by Damon's lack of tact. "Um, yes, okay. You're both here and I have the will so I guess that's all we need to get started…" He picked up a sheath of papers from a side table and shuffled through them. Stefan shot the man a sympathetic look, earning himself a glare from Damon. Stefan bit his lip. The cease fire that had formed during their dinner the night before was apparently over.

"Go ahead, Chester," Stefan encouraged. Damon rolled his eyes, causing Stefan to blow out a breath of annoyance.

"Very well," Chester said, adjusting his glasses. "Let's see here… Ah yes. _I, Giusseppe Piero Salvatore, residing at 4015 Mission Street, Mystic Falls, Virginia, 22969, __declare that this is my last will and testament, and that I hereby revoke, annul and cancel all wills and codicils previously made by me, either jointly or severally…" _

"Skip all the legal garble," Damon interrupted. "We know the man's address." Chester looked at Damon for a long moment, considering whether he would humor him. Damon returned his gaze with a cold glare, made even icier by the mere color of his eyes. Finally, with a nod from Stefan, Chester shuffled the papers and found where the listing of assets begun.

"This is all straightforward," Chester told the brothers. "Giusseppe left his assets to few people."

"Keep reading," Damon chided. "I'd like to get out of here while it's still daylight." It was barely eleven o'clock. Chester shook his head slightly in annoyance but started to read the list of assets and to whom they were bequeathed.

Giuseppe's fortune was divided evenly between Stefan and Damon, save for a portion earmarked for charity, the one line item of the will Damon expected as he didn't believe his father had the balls to write him out entirely, based solely on his need to uphold the family name which would be marred if he denied his oldest son any piece of an inheritance. This painting and that artifact went to the Mystic Falls Historical Society. Some old, glass-encased saw went to Peter at the mill who would appreciate it for its sentimental value.

The books in the library were to go to Damon who snorted in response. He had planned to take the books that belonged to his mother with him, whether they were his to take or not. Stefan was to receive this painting, that knickknack. They were both, officially, granted ownership of the cars they drove, Damon's Camaro once his mother's, Stefan's Porsche once his father's.

Chester rambled on, most of Giuseppe's worldly possessions going to close family friends or Uncle Zach, his only brother. Chester even received the occasional item, being that he had been Giuseppe's lawyer practically since he could afford the retainer fee. Damon made the occasional impatient clucking noise to hurry things along. Chester shifted his eyes towards him whenever he did, clearly annoyed, but stood his ground, reading the will good and proper.

Giuseppe had dictated that each of his sons receive a selection of their late mother's jewelry. They were both to inherit a set of her earrings, diamond encrusted, expensive and kept in a safe at the bank. Stefan was bequeathed a string of pearls while Damon was granted the engagement ring Giuseppe had proposed to his wife with. Stefan kept his eyes downcast, idly tracing the paisley pattern of the couch with his finger as he listened. He knew – and Giuseppe had known as well – that the ring had been in Damon's possession for years after he'd slipped it out of the safe in Giuseppe's office when he'd spied it had been left open. Stefan also knew he it hadn't been the ring he'd proposed to Katherine with.

"To my son, Stefan, I leave the beach house in Hatteras Island, North Carolina," Chester read. "May it bring him and those he chooses to share it with many years of fond memories. I only ask that he use it more often than I."

"Congratulations," Damon drawled dryly. "You and the Brit got yourself a cute little vacation home." Stefan had to physically bite his tongue to stop himself from responding. Chester looked between the brothers, aware of the ever thickening tension, took a breath, and continued reading.

"To my eldest son, Damon, I leave the Salvatore Boarding House." Damon sat up sharply, not sure he'd heard the man correctly. "It is my wish that he one day remembers it is his home."

It was the first time Stefan had ever seen Damon speechless. Chester, well aware of Damon's mood swings and overall unpleasantness, seized the opportunity to read the last part of the will which he knew would likely lead to fireworks, either right then and there or later, once the information had been processed.

"Finally, my legacy, left to me by my own father, Salvatore Mill," he read. "Built by callused hands, determination and true grit, it is my wish for it to continue to grow and prosper. To my employees, who have been the backbone of Salvatore Mills, I leave twenty percent of the holdings. To my son, Stefan, I leave thirty percent in the hopes that he will remain a part of the family business, even as he follows his heart into medicine.

"The remaining and thereby controlling fifty percent, I leave to my first born, Damon." Stefan watched as Damon's jaw dropped slightly at the news, still recovering from the shock of the boarding house. "May he also remember where he came from."

Silence filled the room. Chester waited, anticipating what was to come. Stefan, too, waited, watching Damon for his reaction. It took a few moments, but Damon slowly shook his head as though clearing away cobwebs before turning to Chester.

"What do I need to sign?" he asked, his tone all business. "To make this stuff final and to bequeath my inheritance to Stefan?"

"Damon," Stefan started. But his words failed him. He wasn't sure what to say, how to explain.

"While there is paperwork concerning the will, you won't be able to sign over nor sell the house or the mill for six months," Chester told Damon. He looked him dead in the eye as he spoke, making sure the young man across from him was listening closely. "Your father saw to it that that was an ironclad stipulation." Stefan saw the fire fill Damon's eyes as it happened.

"Why?" Damon demanded. Chester didn't answer immediately, but produced a manila envelope from his briefcase. He reached inside and removed two more envelopes. He glanced at the neat lettering on the outside and passed one to Stefan, the other to Damon.

"I believe these may contain more answers than I can provide," he said. "Your father penned each of you a letter in the days after his terminal diagnosis. I don't know what's in them, but he put them in my possession and asked that you only receive them following his death and the reading of his will." Stefan immediately opened his, but Damon merely glanced at the thick envelope in his hand before rounding back on Chester.

"Bullshit," he said, glaring at the lawyer. "Giuseppe trusted you with his life. You know what his motives were. Tell me." Chester shook his head.

"I only know that he made his decisions early into his illness and reaffirmed them in his final days. These are his final wishes."

Damon felt anger rising, bubbling up from the pit of his stomach. His father, even dead, had a motive. It hadn't been enough for him to trap him in Mystic Falls for weeks following his death. He had to burden him with the family business and the family home and then ensure that he couldn't escape the responsibility. He'd have his own lawyer review the will, but he knew his father. The man was shrewd, as was Chester, despite his seemingly gentle demeanor. There would be no loophole.

Giuseppe practically had a second career in reminding Damon of how irresponsible he was, how he lacked direction, needed to square his head on his shoulders and start making better decisions. Even from his grave, he was reminding Damon that he wasn't good enough, that he was ultimately destined to fail. He had no interest in running a sawmill, no desire to make the Salvatore Boarding House his home. He didn't want any of this. It was all meant for Stefan, the brother that actually gave a damn about sentimental things like family homes and businesses.

He realized something then. Snippets of conversations with Stefan filled his mind, snapping into place like pieces of a puzzle. He rounded on his brother who was engrossed in his letter, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"You knew," he accused. Stefan looked up and saw fury in Damon's eyes, fury he didn't understand. "You knew Dad planned on doing this." When Stefan didn't deny it, Damon knew he was right. "Son of a bitch! You couldn't tell me? Give me a heads up? Of course you couldn't! You've been in on whatever Dad's master plan is all along!"

Damon stood then, too angry to remain seated. He pushed a hand through his hair as he started to pace the small room.

"Damon, it's not what you think," Stefan started. He used the same calming voice he drew upon when talking to patients who had just been through a significant trauma and were scared or badly injured. In this case though, he felt like he were talking to a wild, caged animal instead of his own brother.

"Like hell it isn't!" Damon snapped. "Dear old Dad didn't give a damn about me, not since the day you were born and my mother died. Now he's leaving me the family home and the family business? There's an ulterior motive and I'll be damned if I fall victim to it. The man is dead. He can't keep screwing with me."

"Damon, just read your letter," Stefan tried again, keeping his voice calm. "That will explain…"

"I'm not reading some bullshit letter," Damon scoffed. "If Giuseppe Salvatore had anything worth saying to me, he would have said it to me while he was still alive, faced me like a man."

"He couldn't when you wouldn't come home," Stefan reminded him, this time with a bite in his voice.

The brothers stared at one another for a long, tense moment, both remembering the phone calls and messages, Giuseppe asking Damon to come home one last time, Stefan taking over the role when Giuseppe was too weak to dial the phone. It had been more than a year since Damon had visited. He had called as they were pulling the turkey out of the oven on Thanksgiving, which would be Giuseppe's last, just long enough to tell Rebekah who had answered the house phone that he was at a football game in Detroit and wouldn't be making it, even though they had set him a place, expecting him any minute. He'd hung up before Rebekah had time to so much as acknowledge who was on the other end of the call.

"I had no goodbyes to say," Damon said coldly. He turned his glare back to Chester. "Have whatever papers I need to sign sent to the boarding house no later than first thing tomorrow," he ordered. He swept from the room, leaving his letter behind. Chester picked it up from where it had fluttered to the floor and passed it to Stefan for safe keeping.

"That went about as well as we expected," he commented. Stefan nodded in agreement.

"I hope Dad knew what he was doing," he said, gently fingering the thick paper of his letter he still held in his hands, not yet finished reading it. He noted that Damon's was much thicker, but knew too that his father had a lot to say to his oldest son that Damon hadn't allowed him to say in person.

"Giuseppe Salvatore always knew what he was doing," Chester said with confidence. "I trust him blindly, even in death." Stefan nodded.

"Me too," he confirmed. He stood and offered Chester his hand. "Thank you. For everything. Today, during Dad's illness, all these years." Chester shook his hand, clapping him on his shoulder with his other hand.

"Your father was a dear friend," he said. "And I'm here if you – or your brother – need anything."

"Thank you," Stefan said with a nod, thinking it wasn't all that unlikely that Damon would need a lawyer by the time he was done doing whatever damage he'd inevitably leave in his wake as the day unfolded. He knew how Damon reacted to situations out of his control and it was never good. Chester started to gather his papers.

"Need a ride home?" he asked. Stefan shook his head.

"No, thanks," he replied. "I had the foresight to drive separate."

* * *

Stefan stopped outside the front door of the Boarding House to take a long, deep breath, bracing himself for what he was sure awaited him inside. The reading of the will had been several hours ago now. He'd given Damon some space and gone to Rebekah's to wait for her to get home from work, knowing it would only end badly – at least, worse than it was already destined to – if he followed his brother right then. After taking Rebekah to an early dinner, he'd steeled himself to deal with Damon and returned to the Boarding House. As ready as he could be to confront his irrational older brother, he pushed through the front door.

He wasn't at all surprised to find Damon slouched on the couch holding a cigar, his suit coat and tie discarded in a pile on the floor, his dress shirt untucked and mostly unbuttoned. Empty liquor bottles littered the couch, coffee table and floor around Damon and the smell of alcohol, mingled with the rich scent of the cigar, was thick. Damon had abandoned his glass, now drinking directly out of the bottle. He'd gotten messy at some point, bourbon splashed down his front.

"Brother," Damon greeted, tipping the half full bottle of whiskey towards him in greeting before turning it up. Stefan sighed,waving his hand through the heavy cigar smoke. It was a wonder the smoke alarms weren't going off.

"Damon, what are you doing?"

"Drinking my liquor," Damon answered. He realized he was holding a cigar in his hand. "Burning through cigars. Did you know Dad had these? Cubans. The finest. Of course. Nothing but the best for Giuseppe Salvatore."

"You're drunk," Stefan stated, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Very," Damon confirmed. "But it's my liquor so I can do what I want with it." He eyed his brother, or tried to as he was seeing double. "You know, this is my house now. I could kick you out. I should kick you out."

"You won't."

"Won't I?" Damon replied. "You've been a pain in my ass since the day you were born."

"You haven't been a picnic either," Stefan responded. He debated briefly on starting to clean up the trashed living room, but decided it wasn't worth it until Damon passed out for the night.

"I don't want this place," Damon stated. He swigged from his bottle. "I don't want the mill. I don't want any of this. I just want to get the hell out of here and never look back."

"Why?" Stefan challenged. "What is it about this place that you hate so much?"

"You," Damon answered nonchalantly. "Dad too, but he's gone now so… Just you." Stefan didn't bother to cover up the fact that Damon's words cut deep.

"A drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts," he replied evenly.

"You know, life was good around here until you came along," Damon continued, not paying much mind to Stefan. "I had a mom. She was a good mom. She loved me. And Dad? He loved me too. But then you came along and Mom died and Dad decided he only loved you. I spent twelve years waiting to be old enough to get the hell out of here."

"And you did get out of here, didn't you?" Stefan asked. He made a disgusted face as Damon struggled to sit up in his drunken state. He somehow managed to drop the cigar into the ashtray on the coffee table, saving Stefan a moment's panic. He had no doubt that coupled with the amount of alcohol in the room, the place would have gone up in flames had it landed anywhere else.

"You got out of here and made yourself a big time sports agent, got yourself a high rise apartment in Manhattan, more money than you know what to do with. It's a pretty great life you've got going, Damon. Drinking until your liver floats every night, bedding a new girl while you're at it. You don't care about anything or anyone but yourself, don't settle down, don't commit to anything or anyone. It's a great life you've got going on. Until you come home to an empty apartment. You have nothing, Damon. But you could have everything."

"You don't know a damn thing about me," Damon slurred.

"I know you're holding on to a whole lot of anger," Stefan replied, his voice steady. "And for whatever reason, that anger is mostly directed at me."

"Damn right it is," Damon said. He unsteadily rose to his feet, using the couch for support. "You killed Mom." Stefan's stomach dropped, even as he held his ground.

"It's not my fault she's gone," he said, although there was a part of him that didn't believe that, no matter what his father had told him over the years or what he'd learned in medical school. "She had eclampsia, she bled out. They couldn't save her."

"I never understood why Dad chose you," Damon continued, leaving Stefan to wonder if Damon even heard him. "He loved Mom. More than anything, even you. You killed her and yet he still chose you."

"Dad didn't choose anyone," Stefan said. "He did what he had to do – parented a new born and a six year old who didn't have a mother…"

"Parented my ass!" Damon snapped. The liquor bottle slipped out of his hand and crashed to the floor, shattering as he took a few uneven steps towards Stefan. "He didn't even tell me Mom died! I found out from overhearing the neighbors talking about it, how poor Damon had lost his mother and poor Giuseppe had lost his wife and poor baby Stefan would never know his mother. I didn't get to go to the funeral. I didn't get to say goodbye. My mother left me with our neighbor, told me she was going to the hospital to have my baby brother and would see me soon. I never saw her again.

"Did Dad give a damn? No. I had no one to tuck me into bed at night. Mom used to read me stories and sing to me. I had to put myself to bed, look at the pictures in my books because I couldn't read them on my own. Nannies got me out of bed and fed me breakfast every morning. I didn't play sports because Dad didn't bother to sign me up for any. He put you in plenty though, didn't he? Tell me, Stefan, was there anything you weren't all-state in? Cheerleading maybe? Except you had Elena so I guess you ultimately won some prize for that too."

"Damon, you're drunk," Stefan warned. "You're saying stuff you don't mean.'

"I mean every word of it," Damon insisted. He took another couple of stumbling steps. "You ruined my life." Anger that had been brewing and heating up just below the surface for over the years finally erupted in Stefan.

"Screw you, Damon," he spat. "You think growing up was a picnic for me? You at least had a mom for six years. I've never had one. Those same nannies got me out of bed and fed me breakfast too, remember? Dad tried, Damon. You pushed him away. I tried too. But you didn't want a damn thing to do with me. I grew up without a mom and with an older brother who hated my guts. So you know what? You're right. I had Dad. But that's all I had."

"Now you have Rebekah," Damon said simply. "And a beach house." He walked a wavering line towards the hallway. Stefan, torn between beating the hell out of him and making sure he didn't hurt himself in his intoxicated state, followed. He realized Damon was headed for the table they always tossed their car keys on when they came in from the garage. He easily outmaneuvered Damon and snatched the Camaro keys and his own Porsche keys for good measure. "Give me my damn keys," Damon seethed.

"You're drunk," Stefan said again. "I'd like nothing more than to knock your teeth out right now, but I'm not going to let you get behind the wheel. I clean up the aftermath of drunk driving accidents too often. I'm not letting you put some innocent person's life in danger. Or your own."

"I said, give me my keys!" Damon tried to swipe them away from Stefan, but his coordination was shot. He stumbled into the wall, knocking several framed prints off in the process.

"Go upstairs and sleep it off," Stefan advised. "You're going to feel like hell in the morning, but it'll serve you right."

"This is my house. You can't tell me what to do."

"I can when you're not in any shape to make your own decisions," Stefan said firmly. He went to Damon and grabbed him by his arm. "Upstairs," he ordered. Damon jerked away from him, again falling into the wall and knocking more frames to the ground.

"Go to hell," he told Stefan. He swayed his way to the door.

"Where are you going?" Stefan demanded.

"Out," Damon answered. He went through the front door, slamming it shut behind him. Stefan let him go. He had the keys. Damon was on foot so he wouldn't get but so far and maybe the cooling air would help sober him up.

With a heavy sigh, he turned to the living room to start cleaning up, hoping the mundane task would calm him down, take some of the edge off. That's when he heard the familiar roar of his motorcycle. He barely made it outside in time to see Damon speeding down the driveway on his bike, disappearing out of site, weaving as he went.

* * *

Elena approached her door cautiously. It was after eleven o'clock and whoever was on the other side of it was insistent, pounding their fists against her door without ceasing. She cautiously peered through the peep hole and sighed when her suspicions were confirmed. She unlocked the door and pulled it open.

"Damon," she said. She took in his disheveled appearance, her nose crinkling as the strong scent of bourbon and smoke filled her nostrils. His clothes were dirty and his hair was messy to the point of being tangled instead of sexy. His eyes were bloodshot and he swayed slightly, even as he stood in place. An empty liquor bottle lay at the foot of her porch steps.

"'Lena," he slurred. He reached a hand out to place it on her cheek, but, guessing wrong as to which of the two Elenas in his vision was the real one, his hand merely fell back to his side. She sighed.

"You're drunk," she stated.

"I am," he confirmed. "And you're pretty." He stumbled forward and managed to place his hands on either of her cheeks. He leaned down and gave her a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss on her lips. Instead of making her melt like his kisses usually did, this one made her cringe and she pulled away quickly, the bitter taste of bourbon strong on her tongue.

"Come on," she said, pushing the door open all the way. "I'll make us some coffee and you can start sobering up."

"I knew you'd let me in," Damon said. He stumbled past her and made a beeline for the kitchen. She paused and took out her phone. She tapped out the phrase _'He's here' _and sent it to Stefan before following Damon. He was opening cabinets haphazardly, leaving the doors open as he went.

"Where's the liquor cabinet?" he asked.

"I think you've had enough," Elena told him. She gave him a wide berth as she went to the coffee pot.

"Never," he slurred. He opened the fridge, holding on to it as he swayed heavily. He shook his head to clear away the dizziness and then bent down to study the contents. Elena blew out a breath in an effort to hold onto her patience as she filled the coffee pot with water. "Aha!" he exclaimed, extricating a half full bottle of wine from a lower shelf.

"Damon, let's have some coffee," Elena tried again as he resumed opening cabinets in search of glasses.

"Got wine," he replied. He found regular drinking glasses. "These'll do," he muttered. He reached for two, knocking over a third one in the process. It smacked the counter but, by some miracle, didn't break. Elena watched him closely as she added coffee grounds to the filter. He pulled the cork out and, even in his ever present state of swaying, managed to start pouring red wine into a glass without spilling it. "Want some?" he asked.

"I'm good," Elena replied in a clipped tone. Damon shrugged, picked up the glass he'd just poured, and took several gulps as though it were milk and not a merlot. "Seriously, Damon, let's put the wine away," she said, approaching him. She took the bottle first and poured the little wine left in it down the sink, praying as she did that he wouldn't spy her wine rack tucked in the corner of her small dining room. Then she reached for Damon's glass.

"You said you didn't want any," Damon said, pulling it out of her reach.

"I changed my mind," Elena answered. Damon smirked and passed her the glass. She took one small sip to fake him out and then poured it down the sink as well. She'd expected Damon to protest but instead, he was stalking towards her as best he could in his inebriated state.

"You're so beautiful," he said. He pinned her between himself and the counter. "So beautiful." He leaned down and kissed her. She made it brief, pushing him away gently, but with enough force to let him know she meant it.

"How about that coffee?" she asked.

"No coffee," Damon said. He ducked his head so he could peck kisses along her jawbone. "I want you."

"Damon," Elena said sternly, even as she fought to keep her eyes from fluttering back in her head at his touch. "Not now. Not when you're like this."

"Like what?" Damon muttered, his hands drifting up her body. He tried to slip a hand under her shirt, but she pushed it away.

"Like this," she repeated. "You're drunk, Damon. Very, very drunk."

"You want me," Damon replied. He tried to kiss her, but he missed and his lips landed on her cheek.

"I want you sober," Elena told him. She once again swatted away his hands. She pushed against him and, using the fact that he was unstable on his feet, managed to free herself once more. "Let me fix you some coffee."

"Did you know I became an even richer man today?" he asked. He tried to sit on a stool but missed, barely catching himself on the counter to avoid hitting the floor. Elena sighed and shook her head in annoyance as she found two coffee mugs.

"I take it you weren't cut out of the will?" she asked. She'd gotten the jest of what had happened when Stefan had called a couple of hours ago to give her a heads up that Damon may be headed her way and was anything but sober, but she wasn't fully aware of what had gone down.

"Got half the old man's fortune," Damon slurred. "And the house. And the mill. He's up to something. He wants the last laugh. But I'm not gonna let him have it. I'm gonna figure it out and I'm gonna be the one whose laughing."

"Maybe this is his way of saying he loves you," Elena said as she poured coffee for them. She kept her tone even, even though her annoyance was growing.

"Not a chance," Damon said. He tried to sit on the stool again and this time, succeeded. "He hated me. I hated him. Now he's screwing with me." Elena skipped sugar and cream for Damon and placed a steaming mug of black coffee in front of him.

"Drink this," she ordered. She turned back to retrieve her own mug, but found herself being pulled back, spinning into Damon's arms.

"How about we go to bed instead?" he asked. He moved to kiss her, but Elena turned her head. "Come on," he whispered, pulling her close to him. "Let's get naked."

"Damon, stop," Elena ordered, trying to pull away. He held on tighter, tried to kiss her again. She pulled away more forcefully. "I said stop." Her tone broke through Damon's lust and alcohol filled haze.

"You don't want me," he said, hurt filling his eyes. He looked at her for a long moment, then shook his head. "Figures." He got to his feet unsteadily. "I'll be going." He started a staggering walk to Elena's front door. She sighed, not entirely sure what was going on, and followed him.

"Damon, wait." He stopped and turned back to her, stumbling several steps to his right, running into the back of the living room couch. She approached him, but kept some space between them. "Of course I want you," she assured him, piecing together her rejection with abandonment issues she wasn't sure even sober Damon was aware he had. "Just not like this. You're drunk and upset. Let's just go get some sleep, okay? Maybe get you a shower, first? We can talk about all of this in the morning."

"I got in fight with Stefan," Damon replied. "It felt good, getting everything off my chest."

"You won't feel that way in the morning," Elena said knowingly. "How did you get here, anyway? I didn't hear a car."

"I walked," Damon said, almost proudly.

"You walked?" Elena asked, not sure she'd heard him right.

"After Stefan's motorcycle ran out of gas. The bastard took my keys. Stefan, not the motorcycle. I mean, Stefan is the bastard."

"I got that," Elena said with a nod. "Where did you run out of gas?" She was trying to retrace Damon's steps, figure out what exactly had happened over the last few hours.

"I dunno," Damon said with a shrug. He stumbled a couple more steps. "There was a gas station. But it was closed."

"Did you run out of gas before or after the gas station?"

"You've got lots of questions."

"And you're not giving me many answers," Elena said with a sigh.

"After the gas station," Damon said. ""I know because I stopped and it was closed so I kept driving and then I ran out of gas so I walked here." Elena nodded. There was a gas station a quarter mile from the lake entrance and her place was nearly a full mile further.

"It's a wonder you didn't get yourself killed," she said, more to herself than Damon. "I'll turn the shower on for you. Why don't you go sit back down in the kitchen and drink your coffee?"

"I don't want coffee," Damon said. He swayed a little, but his words weren't as slurred. "I don't want to take a shower. I want to forget today and I want you." He walked towards Elena again and she took a few steps backwards. She wasn't afraid of him, but she didn't exactly like him at the moment.

"Damon," she warned.

"Just kiss me," he said. "Show me you care."

"I do care, Damon," she told him as sincerely as she could. "I care more than I should. But I don't like you like this. I don't know what happened today, but I know it sent you off the rails and that you said things to Stefan you're probably going to regret in the morning. I'm trying to keep you from doing anything else stupid tonight. So just humor me, okay? Come sit down in the kitchen and drink some coffee. Then, you can take a shower and we can get some sleep. We'll talk about all of this in the morning."

For just a moment, Elena thought she'd gotten through to him. The moment was short lived, however, when Damon took a couple more stumbling steps towards her, catching himself on the back of her sofa again.

"I meant everything I said to Stefan," he informed her. "He ruined my life. My dad didn't love me. Not like he loved Stefan. He wouldn't give me houses and timber mills without an ulterior motive. And you. You don't like me like this?" Damon spread his arms out. "This is me, Elena. This is who I am. You can take it or leave it. But I know you'll leave it. Everyone leaves me eventually and you're too good for me anyway."

With that, Damon turned and, nearly losing his balance yet again, knocked into a side table, sending a lamp made of mercury glass and several picture frames crashing to the floor. The lamp shattered into dozens of small pieces as it hit the ground. Elena closed her eyes briefly, trying not to think of how much the lamp had cost, nor how long it had taken her to find exactly what she'd been looking for to tie her shabby chic living room together when she'd been working to make the place her own.

"Damon, where are you going?" she asked, opening her eyes as he reached her front door.

"Outside," he replied. "Gonna go look at the stars."

Sighing, Elena made to follow him, sure he'd fall in the lake and drown without supervision. He half fell down her porch stairs and then tripped over his own feet as he walked towards the lake. Realizing she couldn't handle him on her own, she did the only think she could think of. She called Stefan.

* * *

**So there you have it. SO MUCH happened in this update and that was on purpose. Some of it might be confusing, but it all fits into the big picture. Damon said and did a lot of things and like Stefan said, a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts. He'll get to deal with all that in the morning (aka, the next update). Remember, this is as much a story about Damon's personal transformation as it is about him falling for Elena.  
**

**You also got a bit of insight into Stefan and how he dealt with a number of things over the years. He just wanted a big brother. He also knows some things about what Giuseppe was up to. Not all the things, but some of the things. That Giuseppe was a pretty smart fella. I like him.  
**

**And then we have Elena who got to witness another side of Damon, one that she clearly didn't like very much. He gets to deal with that in the morning too. **

**I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. Feel free to ask any questions that come to mind. I may not be able to answer - this story still has a ways to go! - but I'll answer as best I can through PM! **

**Thanks so much for reading and reviewing - I love you all! **


	14. Apologize

**I could not have adored your reactions to the last chapter more. Some of you loved Damon. Some of you hated him. Some of you loved Elena. Some of you hated her. That is _exactly _what I was hoping for. I also love your thoughts on Giuseppe. Without giving much away, I will say he's become one of my favorite characters. Damon and Stefan have very different versions of their father. Which one is the "true" Giuseppe? We'll find out as the story unfolds. **

**But really - thank you so much for reading and for all the reviews last chapter. I really wish I had time to reply to all of you who leave reviews but know that I read each of them and appreciate them greatly. I hope this update answers at least some of your questions. I think it will also give you some insight into Damon and why he does the things he does. It's also, by far, the longest chapter to date. Whew! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries. **

* * *

Damon was vaguely aware of someone moving around the room, but he didn't bother to open his eyes. He could already feel the edges of the hangover that would overtake him as soon as his eyelids pried apart and he planned to stave it off as long as possible.

Without warning, light poured into the room. Even with his eyes closed, the light hurt, penetrating the thin skin of his eyelids. He groaned and threw his arm across his face, trying to block out the light.

"Morning, sunshine," said a voice he didn't want to hear. He moved his arm slightly, just enough to peer out under it, and opened his eyes to see Stefan standing at his feet, his arms crossed, a look of disapproval firmly in place. "It's a beautiful day out. Not a cloud in the sky. All that sunlight, the warm air… Driving back to Mystic Falls is really going to suck for you."

"What are you doing here?" Damon asked as "back to Mystic Falls" registered. He raised his head, letting his arm fall away. "Where am I?"

"The lake," Stefan answered. "You stole my bike and drove up here, remember? And then you ran out of gas, left it laying on side the road, and walked the rest of the way. I'll be sending you a bill for the damage." Damon groaned again and put his arm back over his face, his aching legs now explained.

"Go away," he said weakly, not really comprehending what Stefan had said. He just wanted to sleep.

"No can do," Stefan replied, much too chipper for Damon's liking. "I've already had to find someone to cover part of my shift at the hospital so I could come up here and keep you from accidentally drowning. We need to get a move on. So get your ass up, find your shoes and get in the car." Damon didn't reply, nor make an effort to move. He'd almost fallen back to sleep when Stefan smacked his foot, hard. "Get up, Damon."

"What the hell?" Damon responded, moving his arm once more.

"I've already wasted enough time dealing with your inability to cope with anything that's the least bit hard,"Stefan said. "I'm not going to sit around and let you sleep it off. You can do whatever the hell you want when we get back to Mystic Falls, but for now, we're playing by my rules. Get up, get your shoes on or don't, and get your ass in my car."

"Baby brother grew a pair," Damon mumbled. That earned him another smack from Stefan, again around his feet, followed by another sharp order to get up. Damon made a move to sit up with the intentions of going after Stefan and having the full out brawl that had been brewing between them for years, but pain shot through his head with his sudden movement and he fell back against the sofa.

"You're in no position to run your mouth or swing your firsts right now, big brother," Stefan said with a steel in his voice Damon had never heard before. "I'm pissed off at you, Damon. Now, for the last time, get up and get outside. I've got another 48 hour shift waiting on me which is going to end up being closer to 72 because I get to cover for the guy covering for me right now. And seeing as I got about three hours of sleep last night and tonight is Thirsty Thursday at the university, the ER should be a good time right around when I'd like to be in bed."

Damon blew out a breath, braced himself for the pain that would shoot through his already throbbing head with the change of position, and pushed himself up so he was sitting on the couch. He cradled his head, wincing away from the light pouring in through the big windows, intending to let the current wave of pain subside before he made his next move. Slowly, he released his head and sat up a little straighter, his eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to adjust to the light. He caught sight of the lake and finally realized where he was – and who wasn't present.

"Where's Elena?" he asked quickly, looking over his shoulder as though he expected to see her standing there.

"Gone," Stefan supplied. "She had some errands to run. For the record, you're going to need more than flowers to get yourself out of this one." Damon groaned again and once more buried his head in his hands, feeling progressively worse, both from his hangover and his new realization that he was at Elena's and she was apparently mad at him. He raked his brain, trying to remember what he'd done. All he could come up with was climbing on Stefan's motorcycle.

"I'll wait for her here," Damon said. He was sure his next run in with Elena wasn't going to be pleasant, but if he had to choose, he'd pick her over Stefan every time.

"Nope. You're going back to Mystic Falls with me. Elena asked me to get you home safely so that's what we're going to do." Damon opened his mouth to protest, but Stefan stopped him. "Save it, Damon. She put up with enough out of you last night. It's in your best interest to do what she asks now."

Guilt settled between his shoulders. He suddenly felt like he had a 200 pound weight resting squarely on his chest. He wasn't going to give Stefan the benefit of admitting he couldn't remember what he'd done the night before, but he was also desperate to figure it out. Not being able to remember the previous night was standard for him, but feeling a sense of guilt over his actions was brand new. He already hated himself for whatever he'd said or done to Elena, without having any idea as to what that was.

"Fine," he said. "Let's go." He pushed himself off the sofa and gave himself a few moments to find his balance, his head spinning. He realized he was barefoot and remembered something about Stefan saying to find his shoes. He had no idea where to begin as he glanced around the room.

"By the door," Stefan told him. "Elena put them there last night." Damon nodded once and started towards the door. Without warning, something sharp stuck into the bottom of his barefoot.

"Son of a bitch!" he cried out, stumbling to sit in the nearest chair. He bent his leg so he could see his foot and found the culprit to be a tiny sliver of silver glass.

"Yeah, there's still pieces of glass from the lamp you broke laying around." Stefan said without concern. He was perched on the arm of the couch, watching Damon with his arms crossed. "Hard to get all those little pieces up at two in the morning, you know? Elena must have missed a few."

Damon sighed, the guilt weighing him down even more. Apparently he'd broken a lamp the night before. How was still a mystery, but the answer wasn't going to be favorable, regardless. He gritted his teeth and pulled the tiny shard from his foot. A bead of blood started to form. Before he could come up with a plan to get himself into the kitchen for a paper towel without ruining Elena's carpet on top of everything else, Stefan was handing him one. Without a thank you, Damon pressed the paper towel to his foot and waited for the bleeding to stop.

"Flush that and let's go," Stefan said after a few minutes. He tossed his car keys impatiently, the sound of metal on metal like nails on a chalkboard and amplified in Damon's hung over state.

Not bothering to argue and in need of a restroom anyway, Damon made his way to Elena's hall bathroom, keeping his eyes out for anything that might clue him in on his behavior the night before. There were coffee mugs on the kitchen counter, but nothing else seemed out of the ordinary. He peeked into Elena's bedroom as he passed it and saw the bed unmade. Instinct told him that was unusual. Elena was someone who always made her bed in the mornings.

After emptying his bladder, he took a moment to lean on the sink and take a few deep breaths, trying to overcome his dry mouth and throbbing head while wishing desperately for a bottle of water and some pain killers. He lifted his head and took in his appearance.

He looked worse than he felt, an accomplishment by all accounts. His hair was matted, his skin pale. His eyes were bloodshot and his clothes were dirty. He was pretty sure he stunk as well. He let his head fall again, overwhelmed by shame. That was new too. The only thing he'd ever felt after a night of binge drinking and debauchery had been the classic hangover symptoms. At most, he'd felt twinges of regret when he'd had to go into a meeting with a pounding head the next day.

With a heavy sigh, he righted himself and turned on the sink. He splashed some water on his face and used his hand to cup water into his mouth, trying to wet his bone dry palate. He opened Elena's medicine cabinet in search of Tylenol or anything relatively close. He added snooping through her things to his ever growing list of things to feel guilty about as his eyes combed through toiletries, a bottle of makeup remover, band aids, emery boards and an assortment of cold and allergy medicines. His found a bottle of Tylenol and thanked whoever was listening for answering his silent prayer. He took out two, carefully placed it back in its place, and popped them in his mouth, swallowing with another handful of water. He made sure to clean up after himself before he rejoined Stefan.

"Let's go," he grumbled, taking in the table that had once held an elaborate lamp and several photos that was now empty. He shook his head slightly, regretting it almost immediately when a fresh round of pain overtook him.

"Took you long enough," Stefan replied. Damon didn't reply.

He pulled his boots on without any idea as to where his socks were, if he'd had any on at all. He was careful not to look directly at Stefan. He didn't remember what had happened after he left the boarding house, but he did remember arguing with Stefan. What he'd said was fuzzy, but he knew it had easily been the biggest fight they had ever had. The only thing he did clearly remember was that he was now the owner of the Salvatore Boarding House and the controlling share of Salvatore Timber. That suddenly wasn't the most pressing concern in his world, however, so he tabled it for later.

"Save the lecture," Damon said once they were both in Stefan's Porsche. "I don't need to be told I screwed up." Stefan cranked up the car and got it turned around and headed out of the lake before he replied.

"I was rehearsing my lecture and making sure it was long enough to last all the way back to Mystic Falls while I was watching you drool this morning," he said. "But then, I decided it wasn't worth it. You've heard it all before and didn't change your ways then. Why would this time be any different?"

Damon didn't reply. He rested his forehead against the cool window and closed his eyes. He'd never admit it to Stefan, but his words had stung. He understood them for what they were – Stefan wasn't going to waste his breath because he, Damon, wasn't worth it. He was always going to screw up.

* * *

Damon sat on the top of a picnic table, nursing a bottle of water as he tried to sort through his thoughts. His mind was racing faster than he could process things, creating a backlog he kept chipping away at, only to add more to the pile as he tried to and failed to process it all.

After arriving home from Elena's, Stefan had wordlessly disappeared to his room. Damon had followed his lead at a much slower pace, having added nausea to his ever growing list of hangover symptoms. He'd heard Stefan's shower cut on as he walked by and when he'd arrived in his own room, had weighed his options between sleeping and showering, deciding it would be easier to sleep than put the effort into standing under a stream of water and going through the motions of washing off. Sleeping also meant he wouldn't have to think, at least not yet.

He awoke several hours later and dragged himself into the shower, forcing himself to focus just on the feel of the hot water beating down on his back and the steps of washing away the dirt and grime from the day before. Scrub as he did though, the feelings of guilt and shame wouldn't go away. When he finally dragged himself out of the room, he was relieved to find Stefan long gone. He'd have to do deal with him, but if he could delay it, all the better.

His hangover symptoms had eased with sleep and a shower, but he still had a dull headache and his stomach was unsettled. He found his car keys, left on the kitchen island by Stefan, next to a stack of papers from Chester that he chose to ignore for the time being, and ventured to the grocery store where he slipped in, found a can of chicken noodle soup, saltines, and a few bottles of water along with a loaf of bread for good measure, paid, and returned to the Salvatore Boarding House – his house now. He nuked the soup, toasted a couple pieces of bread, opened the package of crackers and sat at the kitchen island, slowly ingesting his makeshift meal.

Then, he finally allowed himself to start processing the night before.

He'd started by locating his phone, telling himself when he finally found it on the floor of his bedroom near the pants he'd worn the day before that he was looking for evidence of what he'd done during his drunken binge and not hoping for a text message or missed phone call from Elena. There had been plenty of texts, calls and emails, but none of them were from her. They were all work-related. He wasn't doing anyone, least of all himself, any favors by essentially taking a second day in a row off work, but he didn't have it in him to wheel and deal.

From there, he had taken to wandering the house, venturing into rooms he hadn't been inside of in years. He'd stopped at the double doors of the master bedroom, his father's room and one time, his mother's, but, even as he'd placed his hands on the door knobs, hadn't had the courage to open them. He'd gone to the library, the one place he'd always been able to find solace, but found himself too restless to think, the house proving to be suffocating. He'd hunted down his car keys once more and headed for somewhere else, anywhere else, where he might be able to clear his mind.

His first instinct had been the cemetery. Like the quarry, it had been one of his safe places once. But once there, he couldn't get out of the car. It was different now that his father was buried beside his mother. It no longer felt like a place he could go to be alone with his thoughts, feel things he didn't like to feel and deal with things – or not deal with things – he didn't like to deal with. And so he had started to drive with no destination in mind and somehow, had ended up at Elena's greenway.

He'd walked aimlessly for a while along the same path he and Elena had jogged along which now felt like ages ago. The clean air and solitude helped ease the remainder of his headache and unsettled stomach although his legs were still aching from his long walk the night before. His foot throbbed with each step, even though the cut from the piece of glass was miniscule. It served as a decent reminder that he'd screwed up. When he'd came across the cluster of picnic tables, he'd taken his pick and perched on one.

Retracing his footsteps was the best place to start. He remembered the will reading with frightening clarity, still as unsure as ever as to why his father had left him with his home and his business. He remembered storming out, getting in his car, and just driving for a while. He'd pulled up to the curb outside of The Grill with intentions of going in to start drinking but after he realized he'd likely have to talk to people if he went inside, he drove himself back to the boarding house where he raided the liquor cabinet. If he had to give credit to Giuseppe for anything, the man had excellent taste in scotch and bourbon, both of which Damon had indulged in.

He remembered Stefan showing up. He'd been sitting on the couch at that point, not able to do much else in his state. He'd found a box of Cuban cigars in his father's office and had taken to lighting them, letting them burn down to nothing, taking the occasional drag. He'd taken the first shot at Stefan and it had snowballed from there.

He had remembered much of what he'd said to Stefan over the course of the day. Some of it had been true, but he hadn't meant most of it. He'd spoken from a dark place in the recesses of his mind, a place where he only went when he took things too far or was especially full of self-loathing.

He knew their mother's death hadn't been Stefan's fault. If anything, Stefan had been the real victim. While Damon had had only six short years with her, Stefan never had the opportunity to know her. She'd had eclampsia and her blood pressure had spiked. She'd gone into cardiac arrest during an emergency c-section and while the medical team had been able to deliver a healthy baby boy, there had been no saving her. Damon strongly suspected her death was a driving factor behind why Stefan had become a doctor.

But as a child, Damon hadn't understood. His mother was there and then she wasn't, but Stefan was. There had been no one to explain it to him, no one to show him how to grieve. His six year old mind had associated Stefan's birth with her death and placed the blame on his new baby brother. He'd craved his father's attention in the days following his mother's passing, but Giuseppe had always been too busy holding Stefan, playing with Stefan or trying to calm a crying Stefan to deal with him. He'd been angry at the rejection and that anger had only stayed with him over the years, growing and expanding no matter how off base it was.

He would have to talk to Stefan. They were grown men and needed to deal with their issues. He wasn't sure what he would say or when he would say it, only that there were things that needed to be said. Sighing, he ran a hand over his face and continued retracing the night before.

The last thing he clearly remembered was getting on Stefan's motorcycle and taking off. He shook his head at his stupidity. He'd gone on benders before, made a lot of stupid decisions, but he'd never driven a vehicle of any sort while intoxicated, never put his life or the life of others on the line like that. He'd seen the motorcycle when he'd left for the grocery store, scratched up and muddy. He'd be writing a fat check for that.

He'd ended up at Elena's somehow. It made sense to him that he'd go there. She'd been in his life for just shy of a month, but she'd become someone he trusted, someone he let see parts of him he kept tucked away. He had no idea how or when she'd broken through his defenses, but she'd done it without his knowledge and he couldn't go back.

Except he'd screwed up. He'd only managed to pull together flashes of what had happened once he'd gotten to Elena's and none of them were in order, or at least they didn't seem to be. There was something about coffee. She'd offered him some, more than once, he thought. He was pretty sure he'd poured a glass of wine at some point too. He'd kissed her, that he knew for sure. And she'd pushed him away. He could hear her voice saying "I do care." The last thing he remembered was stars.

And then he had woken up with Stefan standing over him.

"Dammit," he muttered into the silence surrounding him, tugging at his hair in frustration. He didn't know how much damage had been done, if he could salvage things between them. He didn't know how to face her, apologize when he had no idea what he'd done. He'd made up his mind after his brief trip to New York that he was going to try with Elena. He was going to put himself on the line and give a relationship a shot. He'd been waiting to have that talk with Elena. Waiting to see what the outcome of the will would be as his life was in New York and his job took him all over the country. Whatever happened between them would have to involve long distance which he knew was a lot to ask. Now there was a very real chance he'd ruined things before they even got started.

With a sigh, he heaved himself off the picnic table and started back down the trail to his car, knowing he needed to find Elena and grovel. He limped a bit as he made his way down the path, his foot throbbing. But as much as it hurt, it had nothing on the pressure that had settled in his chest.

* * *

Elena chewed on her lip, trying to focus on the Disney movie playing out before her as she lounged on the couch with Ella who was nearly asleep, her hair damp from her bath, her princess nightgown, a size too big but featuring her favorite princess, swallowing her tiny frame. The bear Damon had won for her at the festival lay at the opposite end of the couch, serving as Ella's foot rest now, her tea party guest earlier.

Even as the movie reached its big musical number, Elena found it hard to concentrate, her mind wandering to Damon. Stefan had called Elena earlier in the day, letting her know he had left Damon safe and sound, sleeping off a massive hangover in his own bed. That knowledge had eased some of her worries, but only marginally. She had managed to fill in some of the blanks, but she was still unclear about how Damon had gone from the anxious man she'd spoken with on the phone before the reading of the will to the drunk and unruly one she had d found at her door. She was both worried about him and upset with him.

The sound of someone knocking on the door interrupted the after dinner quiet that had settled through the home. "I'll get it!" Elena called out, moving carefully so she didn't wake Ella who slept right through the noise. Jenna called her thanks from the kitchen while she heard Ric moving around upstairs, likely cleaning up after Ella's bath and the preceding tea party.

She glanced at the hallway clock as she approached the door. It was just after seven. She didn't bother to check who was on the other door before she swung it open. She found she wasn't surprised to see Damon, a bouquet of flowers in hand, standing before her. She crossed her arms over her chest.

"Damon," she said, careful to keep her tone neutral. He indicated the flowers in his hand.

"I know I'm going to need more than flowers," he said, borrowing the line Stefan had used earlier which had been running through his mind ever since. "But I'm hoping they will help break the ice." Elena didn't reach for the flowers or make any other indication that she was willing to hear him out. Damon felt his heart clench, more sure than he'd been as he'd walked up the sidewalk after spying her car parked on the curb that she was going to tell him to go to hell.

"Damon! Hey!" came Alaric's voice. He appeared on the staircase, making his way downstairs with a towel thrown over his shoulder and an assortment of toddler sippy cups in his hands.

"Hey, Ric," Damon replied with a polite nod, even though he didn't much feel small talk with his old friend at the moment. Ric's eyes fell on the bouquet.

"Flowers," he said. "Someone's in trouble." The half-hearted turn upward of one corner of Damon's lips was enough to tell Ric he was right. "I'm going to take these cups to the kitchen and then put the little one to bed," he said, realizing his presence wasn't required right then. Damon watched him walk away for a few moments before he took a steadying breath and turned back to Elena, his eyes soft and pleading.

"Can we talk?" he asked. "Please?"

It felt like an eternity instead of just the few moments it actually was before Elena nodded and stepped out onto the porch. He followed her, limping slightly, to the swing where she sat, pulling her knees to her chest. Damon joined her, careful to keep some space between them even though he desperately wanted to pull her into his arms and hold her until she forgave him. He laid the flowers on a nearby patio table and took a deep breath.

"Elena, I'm sorry," he started. "I screwed up last night. I had too much to drink and I made some bad decisions. I tend to do that – drink too much and make bad decisions. I just… Chester read the will and all of a sudden, I have a house and a lumber yard. I know my father well enough to know he wouldn't entrust me with the family home and the family business without a motive. Not knowing what he's up to and then figuring out Stefan knew what was in the will the whole time, it set me off and I coped the only way I know how."

Elena didn't say anything, not on purpose, but because she was trying to figure out what to say. Damon sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face. He was nervous, out of his element. He couldn't recall the last time he had apologized for anything, not even bumping into someone on the sidewalk. He took another deep breath and reached for Elena's hand. She could feel the relief roll off him when she didn't pull away.

"I can't remember what I did last night," he admitted. "I know I said a lot of things to Stefan, some I meant, some I didn't. I know I took his motorcycle and ended up at your place. I don't remember much of what I did once I got there. There was coffee and wine. I kissed you. You pushed me away. The last thing I remember is looking at the stars. And apparently, I broke at least a lamp.

"I've spent most of the day in the woods, trying to remember what I did," he continued. "I can't remember though. All I can do is apologize for my behavior and hope you can forgive me for whatever I did because I assure you, I regret all of it."

Elena still didn't reply, still searching for the right words. She wanted to forgive Damon, but she also wanted him to understand why his behavior had hurt her. And most importantly, she wanted him to understand that he didn't have to turn to Johnnie Walker and Pappy Van Winkle. He had her. In her silence and unable to read her mind, he hurried along with his apology.

"Elena, I don't apologize," he said, opting to be entirely truthful. It was his only option. "I don't feel remorse for my actions. I make bad decisions, I wake up the next day, and life goes on without consequence. But today, all day, all I've wanted was to figure out what I did wrong. So I could apologize. To you. Because the thought of you being upset with me? I can't handle that, Elena. I don't want you to be mad at me. So please, accept my apology and tell me what to do to make this right."

Elena looked at their hands linked together, her small one in Damon's much bigger one. He squeezed her hand, begging her silently to say something, anything.

"I didn't like the person you were last night," she finally said. He raised his eyes to hers and her resolve nearly crumbled. Whatever demons that haunted him had dug their way out from wherever he tried to lock them up and they were trying hard to break through the surface. "You were an unruly drunk, saying things you didn't mean, putting yourself and others in harm's way. You were reckless and even mean, especially after Stefan arrived."

Damon dropped his head, hating himself even more, if that were possible. "I'm sorry," he said again, so softly Elena almost missed it.

"You were a completely different person last night," she continued. "Damon, there were other ways you could have handled everything. You could have talked to me. I would have listened, helped. You didn't need to leave a path of destruction behind you. You put your life at risk, taking Stefan's motorcycle the way you did. People care about you, Damon, whether you want them to or not. You didn't have to go off the rails just because things got hard."

"I'm not used to that," he admitted quietly, avoiding Elena's eyes.

"Not used to what?" she prompted.

"People caring."

In that moment, Elena's heart broke for him. The more time she spent with him, the more she realized he was a lot of smoke and mirrors. He did have a successful career, a life full of luxuries. But when it came to relationships, he had been dealt a poor hand. Losing his mother at such a young age had done a number on him. His struggles with his father and brother had caused him to keep them at a distance. The one person he had let himself fall in love with had left him brokenhearted. He was used to taking care of himself and turning to his vices when things got too hard. To him, he was all he had. She realized just how hard it was for him in that moment to be sitting next to her, apologizing, asking her in so many words not to leave him too. She squeezed his hand to reassure him.

"You're going to have to get used to it," she told him. "I care about you, Damon. When Stefan called me last night and said you'd had a lot to drink and had taken off on his bike, I was worried sick that something would happen to you."

"I'm sorry," Damon said yet again, squeezing her hand back. "Like I said, this whole thing with people caring… It's new. I'm not proud of how I acted last night. Towards you or Stefan. It's just… Everything is different, Elena. In the last month, my life has been turned upside down and it's a lot to take in."

"What do you mean?" Elena asked. She could hear the confusion – and even some frustration – in Damon's tone, revealing to her that he didn't like not fully understanding what was going on around him. He didn't like not being completely in control of every situation he was currently faced with. He sat back against the swing, her hand still in his as he nervously played with her fingers which were interlaced with his.

"I had a list of commandments for myself," he started. "Things like 'hate Mystic Falls,' 'trust no one.'" He paused and looked at her. "'Never stay the night.'" She blushed just enough for him to notice. "Now, things – they're different. I'm trying to work that part out and it's a lot to work through. The one thing I do know, right now, is that I hate that I've hurt you. Please, Elena, accept my apology. Or put me out of my misery. Because this is torture."

"The next time something doesn't go your way, I want you to stop and think for a minute," she told him. "Come to me. Or to Stefan because I don't believe for one minute that you dislike him as much as you try make him think you do. You don't have to turn up a bottle of bourbon, just because your feelings got hurt or something didn't go your way. You have people, Damon. You have me." Damon brushed his thumb along the back of her hand and swallowed past the lump that had formed in his throat. He hated how vulnerable he was yet he also found it a relief to let someone see that side of him.

"I can't promise I won't screw up again," he told her. "But I can promise to never intentionally hurt you." He watched the tension leave her body as she made the decision to fully forgive him. He felt his own shoulders loosen, air flow back into his chest. She moved, turning her body so her back was resting against his chest. He wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. "I'm sorry," he whispered one more time for good measure.

"I forgive you," Elena told him. "You're a good man, Damon. You just need to believe that." Damon placed a light kiss on the top of her head.

"You're the good one," he told her. "I'm just happy you let me be seen with you."

"You owe Stefan an apology," she told him, scolding him lightly even as she idly rubbed a hand up and down one of his arms.

"I know," he agreed. "I'll talk to him." He wasn't looking forward to it, but he knew it needed to happen. "I'm also going to replace your lamp," he added. "And anything else I may have ruined. I'm sorry about that, too."

"Just the lamp and don't worry about it," Elena said dismissively. "Everything else survived."

"Except my dignity," he mumbled. Elena smiled, but didn't say anything in return. She noted how Damon was holding her. His arms were firmly around her, anchoring her to him like she was a lifeline. And yet, he was gentle, cradling her like she was something precious.

"So, what's next?" she asked. It was a broad question, could cover any number of topics, from what they were going to do with the remainder of the evening to where their relationship was going. She let him decide on what the answer was. He blew out a breath.

"Dad put some stipulations in the will," he told her. "For at least the next six months, the house and the mill are in my care. But I have to go back to New York. I've got clients, meetings. I guess I'm going to be back and forth for now, racking up frequent flier miles." Elena nodded, feeling a pang at the thought of him leaving, even though she'd always known he would.

"When are you leaving?" she asked. He swallowed hard, hating the answer. He hadn't done much by way of figuring out how he was going to handle everything on his plate, but he had looked far enough ahead while driving back to Mystic Falls from the greenway to know what his next step had to be.

"I need to be in Dallas on Sunday for a football game," he said. "My flight leaves Saturday afternoon and then I'm planning to fly out of Dallas to New York, spend some time in my office, get some face to face time with my employees. Google Hangouts only go so far."

"Saturday is the day after tomorrow," Elena said, realizing with a jolt just how short her time with Damon was. Damon nodded and kissed her hair again. She felt his arms tighten around her.

"It is," he confirmed. He took a deep breath to brace himself for what he was about to do. "I have to go to this charity gala next Saturday. I RSVP'd with a plus one, anticipating that I can convince you to be my date. Before my bourbon inspired trip to your lake house, of course." Even though Elena had forgiven him, he was afraid she would turn him down, call him insane for asking her to fly up the coast to attend some stuffy event he himself would rather not go to. Elena turned to look at him.

"You want me to attend a charity gala?" she asked, making sure she heard him right. "With you, in New York?"

"That's what I said," he confirmed. "Rest assured that you were not the only one surprised when I indicated I'd be bringing a date. I'm friends with the head of the foundation the gala is benefiting. He called me personally to ask if there had been a mistake, but I informed him that the most beautiful woman at the gala will be on my arm so please, Elena, don't make me a liar."

"You had me convinced you meant me until you started that most beautiful nonsense," she said. Damon shook his head and placed his fingers under her chin, tilting it upward so he could look into her eyes.

"You don't see yourself properly," he told her. "You are beautiful, Elena. Outwardly, but more so, on the inside, in all the best ways."

"You are really laying it on thick," Elena told him seriously. "It's like you pissed me off last night." Damon couldn't help but chuckle.

"You still haven't given me an answer," he said. "Come with me to the gala. Fly to New York on Thursday. We'll go out or stay in, whatever you want. I have a couple of meetings early Friday, but then I'm all yours. We'll go to the gala on Saturday and, if I can convince you, the Giants game on Sunday. You can fly back on Monday. Or whenever. I won't be in a hurry to put you on a plane."

"Sounds like you've thought this through," Elena replied.

"This is torture, isn't it?" Damon asked. "This is how you're paying me back for my behavior last night, dragging out answering whether or not you'll be my date." Elena laughed.

"I hadn't thought about it like that, but now that you said it…"

"Elena...," Damon groaned. She turned so she was fully facing him.

"I would love to be your date," she told him sincerely. "And it will be nice to spend a weekend in New York."

"Thank God," Damon said with relief. "You were killing me there for a minute." Elena laughed and reached out to push Damon's hair off his forehead. He caught her hand and kissed her palm. Then he reached past her and picked up the bouquet of flowers. "For you," he said, handing them to her with a flourish.

"Thank you," she replied with a smile, taking them this time. "They're beautiful."

"You're beautiful," he responded. He leaned in and kissed her softly. "And I'm sorry about last night."

"You can stop apologizing," she told him. She used a tone that was firm to let him know he was off the hook, yet gentle enough to keep him from recoiling. "I've forgiven you." She picked up his hand. "But I think I'll miss you when you leave." Damon pulled her back to him, turning her so her back was once more resting against his chest and he could hold her to him like he wanted to.

"I know I'll miss you," he admitted. His voice was gritty and her intuition told her he was being as honest with her as he could. His guard was largely down, but there was still the slightest of a partition separating them that she couldn't seem to break through. "But a week from today, you'll be in New York, with me. And I fully expect to commandeer most of your time tomorrow."

"Most of my time?" Elena asked coyly. "Just most of my time, when I have the entire day to waste? Benefits of being a writer who has no immediate deadlines, and all."

"Well, there's the whole talk to Stefan thing," Damon said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Otherwise, I'm yours." Elena nodded her approval and leaned into his embrace. They remained like that for several minutes, Damon rocking the swing gently.

"Damon?" Elena broke the silence. "Why did Giuseppe leaving you the house and the mill upset you so much? I could maybe understand if he'd left you out of the will, but not for leaving you the family home you grew up in." Damon sighed.

"It's hard to explain, Elena," he said. "My entire life, Giuseppe liked to point out how irresponsible he thought I was, how disappointed he was in my behavior. He was sure I would end up in jail or living on the streets. Honestly, I only graduated high school to spite him. He harped on me for not going to college, told me I was ruining my life, hopscotching all over the country, living off my trust fund. He told me time and time again that I was going to crash and burn and be left with nothing but ashes.

"You would think he would've shut up about it after he realized I had a real career that I was good at, but he still thought I was irresponsible, telling me I needed to settle down, stop taking the bachelor life to the extremes. Those were some of the last words he said to me. And then he died and left me with two of his most precious possessions. He wouldn't have done that if it weren't to teach me a lesson. The house is probably infested with cockroaches and the mill is probably in financial ruins so that's how he's going to pay me back."

"Have you seen a cockroach at your place?" Elena asked, thinking Damon was being dramatic.

"Well, no. And the mill is doing better than ever, based on the financial records I've seen. It's the principal, Elena. This is his final attempt to get me to bend to his will." Elena leaned her head back on Damon's shoulder and looked up at him.

"Has it occurred to you that maybe your father loved you and this is his way of trying to show you that?" she asked. "Leaving you, his oldest son, his legacy?" Damon shook his head.

"He didn't work like that, Elena. There's more to it." Elena let the topic drop. She agreed there was more to it. She didn't agree with Damon's perspective of what that was. She'd spent a lot of time at the Salvatore Boarding House over the years, especially in the year she'd been back in Mystic Falls along with the rest of her friends, supporting Stefan and spending time with Giuseppe whom they had all loved like a favorite uncle.

"You were in the woods earlier?" she asked, changing the topic. The woods wasn't the first place she'd look for Damon if he were to go missing so that bit of information piqued her curiosity.

"I needed to think, and I couldn't do it at the Boarding House," Damon told her. He idly ran his hand up and down her arm. "I ended up at the McIntire Greenway and wandered along the path for a while, sat on some picnic tables. Turned out to be pretty cathartic."

"That's why I run out there sometimes. It's peaceful."

"I still don't like you running out there by yourself," Damon said. Elena rolled her eyes. She'd realized quickly that Damon was protective of her. He didn't try to keep her in a bubble, but he was clearly concerned about her safety and she didn't doubt he would step in to ensure it, if need be. It was his own safety he was reckless with.

"And you're limping because?" she asked.

"Cut my foot on a piece of lamp," he confessed. "It's tiny, but it feels like I had my foot amputated MacGyver style."

"Karma," Elena quipped, drawing a chuckle from Damon.

"I'll agree to that," he said. "Where did you go this morning? Please don't say I ran you off." That was one more thing he felt guilty about – the fact that Elena hadn't been in her own home when he'd woken up on her couch.

"I spent the day speaking to English classes at the high school," Elena told him. "Apparently, they see me as a Mystic Falls success story. Sixteen year old boys are as awful as I remember, but I at least got to have lunch with Bonnie and Jeremy."

"Cafeteria food?" Damon asked.

"Yeah," Elena said, making a face. "Thank God, Jenna made lasagna tonight." There was another question Damon wanted to know the answer to.

"How did Stefan end up at your place?"

"I called him last night," Elena replied. "I couldn't get through to you and you decided you wanted to go hang out on the dock. I realized there was no way I could pull you out of the lake if you fell in and you certainly couldn't swim if your state. Like or not, Stefan cares about you too."

"I'm an ass," Damon said, more to himself than to Elena.

"You were last night," Elena told him, not cutting his behavior any slack. "But like I said, you're a good man, Damon. You just need to realize that about yourself." Damon's response was to hug Elena to him.

"You want to get out of here?" he asked. "Maybe get some frozen yogurt?" He didn't care if they sat right there on the porch for the rest of the night, so long as he was with her. His nerves were frayed and her presence helped calm him, helped him believe things would be okay.

"Okay," Elena agreed. "You're buying."

"Naturally," Damon replied. He helped Elena to her feet and then stood as well, following her inside so she could collect her things and put her flowers in water.

"Day-mun!" squealed a little voice. He grinned and turned around to find Ella in her nightgown beaming at him from the living room doorway. She ran to him, giggling even as her mother called after her that it was bed time.

"Hey, rug rat," he greeted, stooping down to her level just in time to catch her before she full on collided with him. "How's it going?"

"Me and Aunt Laney had a tea party," she told Damon seriously, her small arms around his neck.

"And Aunt Laney apparently opted not to forgo the caffeine," Jenna said, stepping into the hallway.

"Your husband made the tea," Elena replied from the opposite end of the hallway. "Blame him."

"I figured as much. Notice he's made himself scarce now that the wee one has found her second wind."

"How come I wasn't invited to this tea party?" Damon asked Ella. "Two of my favorite girls were there." Jenna and Elena exchanged a look from their respective ends of the hallway. Jenna knew her niece well and knew the exchange between Ella and Damon was melting her into a puddle. Damon was even managing to win her over, just the slightest bit, by being so good to her daughter. She couldn't deny that the man cared about her niece as well.

"Who your favorite girls?" Ella asked innocently.

"You and Aunt Laney," Damon told her. He stood, taking Ella with him. "Tell me, Ella, did your daddy attend this tea party?"

"Yep!" Ella said proudly. "Me and Aunt Laney and Daddy and my bear." Damon grinned like Christmas had come early.

"Did you take any pictures?" he asked.

"Aunt Laney did," Ella said, nodding.

"Only of Ella," Elena said. "Sorry, Damon. Whatever you were planning to do with pictures of Ric attending his daughter's tea party will have to wait."

"And so will the next tea party," Jenna said, moving forward to collect Ella. "Ella, its bedtime. I mean it. Tell Damon and Aunt Laney goodnight." Damon saw the look Ella gave her mother and knew the kid wasn't going down without a fight. He also saw a strong resemblance to Elena in that moment.

"Night night, Day-mun," Ella said. She kissed his cheek which caused the slightest bit of a blush to color his face.

"Goodnight, Ella," he said as Elena came to his side and held out her arms for Ella.

"Night, Princess Elsa," she said, hugging her niece who giggled.

"I not Elsa, Aunt Laney!" she squealed in delight.

"Are you Anna, then?"

"No! I'm Ella!" Ella said happily.

"Well, goodnight, Princess Ella," Elena said. They shared an Eskimo kiss. Damon took a few steps back, giving them space. He felt something odd whenever he watched Elena with Ella. He knew Elena would be a mother one day. She was made for it. But it was like his heart expanded and somewhere on the very edge of his mind, he started to think "what if?" whenever he saw her with the young girl.

"Come along, Princess whoever," Jenna said, taking her daughter from Elena. "You two, behave," she added, looking over her shoulder at Damon and Elena. Damon noted that Jenna's gaze lingered on him a little longer, a note of warning in them. He shifted his weight uncomfortable and turned back to Elena.

"Who are Elsa and Anna?" he asked.

"The characters from Ella's latest favorite movie," Elena answered. "You ready?"

"Almost," Damon replied. He reached for her and pulled her towards him, kissed her sweetly, making sure he kept himself in check as he knew he was still walking a thin line. He broke the kiss with a smile. "Now I am."

* * *

**So there you have it. Damon is struggling with all the "new" in his life, but he's also taking a big chance with Elena. It's huge for him. And Elena, although not thrilled with how he behaved, still understood the root of why he did what he did - but also let him know he has other options. **

**And Stefan and Damon are so much fun to write. I go back and forth on whether I like the character of Stefan on the show, but here, I'm taking my favorite sides of him and building from there. He's the little brother but sometimes, he acts like the big brother. More to come on those two.  
**

**So - what'd you think?! **

**Happy Spring!**


	15. Airport

**I really do love you all. Your reviews last chapter were so kind. It was a long chapter with a lot of "stuff" and most of it was heavy. Thank you for reading all of that. It really does mean so much to anyone who writes anything in a public forum to read reviews of any kind. It's merely a bonus when they are positive. Thank you! **

**A couple questions about the story have popped up often in reviews as of late so I decided to go ahead and "answer" them. Elena's safety is mentioned often. I promise, she's safe. No one is going to jump out and grab her while she's running or break into her house. Damon is just protective, overly so. More on that in later chapters. As for that letter... It WILL come into play at some point. And that's all I'll say about that. :) **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

He had always hated hospitals. He had been successful in largely avoiding them over the years, a slight miracle given some of his extracurricular activities that could have turned out worse for the wear. He rarely got sick and when he did, he tended to nurse himself back to health by cowering in his bed and drinking cough syrup straight from the bottle. His mother had died in a hospital and at six years old, just as he'd associated her death with Stefan's birth, he had associated hospitals as the place people went to die. He knew good things happened in them – lives were saved, diseases were cured – but he still would prefer to be anywhere else. Especially today.

Standing in the entrance of the emergency room, he looked around for a reception desk. It seemed quiet, the waiting room mostly empty, save for a person here and there, waiting for news on family members as they flipped through old magazines or watched daytime television. He spied the reception desk and walked purposefully toward it. He had long ago learned that if he could fake confidence, he usually managed to trick himself into feeling confident and right now, he was anything but sure of himself.

"Can I help you?" the reception asked. Damon ignored how she looked him up and down, eyeing him like he was a piece of meat. He had seen her reaction from enough women – middle-aged or otherwise – that it didn't faze him.

"I'm looking for my brother," he said smoothly. "Stefan Salvatore. He's an emergency medicine resident." He could tell by the light that flickered in the woman's eyes that she knew exactly who he was referring to – and that he wasn't the only Salvatore she had ogled.

"Dr. Salvatore," she said with a nod. "I'll page him. You just hang out right here, darling." Damon nodded with a tight smile and chose to step away from the desk, waiting as far from both the receptionist and the patients in the waiting room as he could. Nearly a quarter of an hour passed before Stefan appeared through a set of double doors, wearing navy scrubs, a stethoscope draped around his neck and his ID badge swinging from his chest pocket which was stuffed with a miniature notebook, several pens and an assortment of folded up papers with patient notes scribbled on them.

"Damon," he said, making his way over to his brother with a critical eye. "Everything okay?"

"I can't stop by little brother's place of business to say hello?" Damon replied, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You can't," Stefan said in a matter-of-fact tone. Damon looked him over with a critical eye.

"You look like hell," he stated, noting the dark circles under Stefan's eyes.

"Let's see how those pretty blue eyes and tailored suits of yours look after a 48 hour shift with another 18 hours to go," Stefan retorted. Damon cringed internally, remembering that Stefan had to cover for someone who had in turn covered for him so he could get his drunken older brother home safely.

"For the record, I'm not wearing a suit," Damon told him, indicating his black jeans and black t-shirt combo.

"Yeah, what happened to the suits, anyway?" Stefan asked. "The first week you were here, you came down for breakfast fully dressed in business attire, just to sit around in the media room with your laptop all day. Now you're all jeans, t-shirts and leather jackets."

"The fashion faux pas of Mystic Falls must have rubbed off on me," Damon said dismissively. Stefan shook his head, deciding he'd had enough of the small talk and banter.

"What do you want, Damon?" Damon rubbed the back of his neck. Stefan knew that tell. Damon was nervous, a rare thing for his older brother who was typically overly confident and downright cocky.

"Got a minute to talk?" he asked. Stefan looked over his shoulder at the largely empty waiting room. He'd just come from the pediatric emergency room which fortunately told a similar story.

"I've got a patient I need to check on," he said, turning back to Damon. "Give me ten minutes?" Damon nodded.

"Go take someone's blood pressure or whatever it is you do," he said. Stefan refrained from rolling his eyes.

"I'll meet you in the cafeteria," he told Damon. "Make yourself useful and get me a coffee while you wait."

"I guess that's the least I can do," Damon said, making the first acknowledgement of the elephant standing between them.

"Guess so," Stefan agreed. They brothers parted ways, Stefan holding his badge up to a censor and disappearing back through the double doors, Damon following the signs to the cafeteria.

He had managed to arrive during the sweet spot, Damon realized, as he breezed into the cafeteria. Breakfast was over and the turnover for lunch by the cafeteria workers was underway, but the lunchtime crowd was still an hour or so away from descending. He found the coffee cart quickly, ordered two of the biggest coffees they offered, and picked up a snack for himself. He found a table and sat down to wait, replying to emails to pass the time. Ten minutes passed and then twenty. A half hour later, Stefan arrived.

"Sorry," he apologized, falling into the chair across from Damon. "I got hung up with a patient's family."

"You can't blame me if your coffee is cold," Damon said, pushing an insulated cup towards Stefan.

"I assure you, it doesn't matter." He took a long drink from the mug, not bothering with sugar or cream. "Just right," he said.

"Shame you can't throw back whiskey like that," Damon commented. "You might be more fun."

"Because you made chugging whiskey – or bourbon or scotch or whatever the hell you were drinking – look appealing the other night," Stefan retorted. "Especially with that hangover yesterday morning."

"Touché," Damon replied. Stefan took another long drink from his coffee before he sat it down and fixed his eyes on his brother.

"So?"

"So what?"

"So why did you show up at the hospital, have me paged, and ask if I could leave my patients for a few minutes to talk?" Stefan asked. Damon sighed.

"I owe you an apology," he started. "I said some stuff I didn't mean."

"And some stuff you did mean," Stefan said knowingly.

"And some stuff I did mean," Damon admitted. "But I was out of line. I'm sorry." He waited for Stefan to respond, needing his reaction in order to figure out what to say next. Several moments passed which included Stefan drinking his coffee and exchanging a polite hello with another doctor before he said anything to Damon.

"What stuff did you mean?" he asked. "Because I've got to say, Damon, you could've fooled me. You sounded like you meant every word." Damon played with the empty wrapper of the granola bar he had eaten while waiting for Stefan. This wasn't exactly the conversation he wanted to have, but there wasn't much use in continuing to avoid it.

"I know it wasn't your fault that Mom died," he said, looking anywhere but at Stefan. Stefan raised his eyebrows in disbelief. After a lifetime of believing his brother blamed him for their mother's death, he was sure he had heard Damon wrong. "I was a kid, Stefan. I didn't understand. I did the math and the math told me you were there and Mom wasn't. It was just easier to keep blaming you as I got older than it was to admit that I was wrong and that there was nothing anyone could do to save Mom. I needed someone to blame and unfortunately, that person was you."

"You've hated me our entire life," Stefan stated. Damon heard the carefully covered up pain in Stefan's voice. He knew it well. It was the same pain he worked around the clock to keep tucked away deep in his chest. He finally met his little brother's eyes.

"I don't hate you," he said. He swallowed hard. "You're my brother."

A heavy silence fell over their table. They had only exchanged a handful of sentences, but it was the most honest conversation they had ever had.

"You're still pissed about Dad," Stefan finally said. Damon nodded.

"I am," he said, leaving it at that. He could understand that Stefan wasn't at fault for their mother's death. He couldn't quite get himself to a place where he was willing to fully let go of the fact that Stefan had been their father's favorite for the last twenty six years, had gotten all of Giuseppe's love, made him proud. He couldn't let go of that yet, if ever.

"You really should read the letter Dad left for you," Stefan said. "I think it will explain a lot."

"Why bother?" Damon asked with a shrug. "You seem to be in on his plan. Why don't you tell me yourself?" Stefan shook his head.

"I don't know what he put in your letter," he said truthfully. "All I knew was that he intended to leave you the Boarding House and the mill. He said he would explain everything to you and made me promise I wouldn't tell you what was in the will."

"The man is dead. You could have sung like a canary and he would have never known."

"I gave him my word, Damon," Stefan said quietly. "He was dying. I couldn't refuse him."

"Even so," Damon replied, leaving it at that. He wasn't sure what else to say.

"You know, I was pretty surprised to see you here," he said. "I didn't exactly expect an apology."

"Yeah, well, this is my second apology in less than twenty-four hours," Damon said, letting his own wonder at the fact show. "It seems I'm turning over a new leaf."

"Elena?" Stefan guessed. Damon nodded.

"She gave me a pretty decent piece of her mind, but she forgave me. I'm on thin ice for a while though."

"She was always going to forgive you," Stefan told him knowingly. "She sees the good in everyone. It's her nature to forgive when someone deserves it."

"I'll test that nature," Damon mumbled. Stefan heard him, but chose not to pursue that topic any further, given that he agreed with the fact that if anyone could test Elena's ability to forgive and forget, it would be his brother. He glanced at his watch and realized he really needed to get back to the ER. But since he had Damon's attention and it appeared Damon was speaking relatively freely, he decided to ask a pressing question.

"So, what's next?" he asked. "With the house, the mill, your job, New York? How is all that going to work?"

"I'm trying to figure that out," Damon told him. He had more questions than answers right now and for now, that would have to be okay. "I guess I'll be back and forth for a while. I'm actually flying out tomorrow. Going to Dallas for a game and then to New York. I need to make an appearance at my office, meet with people face to face. I've done a decent job of keeping up with things, but I can't keep working from the media room. I'm planning on having my accountant go over the mill records, help me get an idea of where things stand. I'll figure out what to do next from there."

"And Elena?" Stefan pressed. "I'm surprised you aren't with her now if you're leaving tomorrow." Damon blew out another breath.

"She's meeting me at the house later," he said, not adding that he didn't plan on letting her leave his side again until he was forced to board his plane. It had taken more willpower than he'd known he'd possessed to turn his car towards Charlottesville and Stefan and away from where Elena was likely having coffee in her pajamas at Jenna and Ric's. "She's going to come to New York next weekend, go to an event with me."

"She's going to visit you in New York?" Stefan repeated, hoping he'd heard Damon correctly. It had been a month or so since Elena had come into Damon's life, but Stefan could already see the difference she was making in him.

"Yeah," Damon confirmed. He finished off his own coffee. "I'm going to try this whole relationship thing with her." He saw the surprise register on Stefan's face and could hardly blame him. He was still surprised at his decision himself. "Just, keep that to yourself for now. I haven't actually talked to Elena yet. I'd planned to, but then I sort of had to apologize and hope she would still speak to me instead. I'm going to talk to her about us while she's in New York. I just want to make sure we're okay after the other night first."

"I'm happy for you," Stefan told Damon, genuinely meaning it. "She's good for you. And she cares about you. You could do worse."

"I have done worse," Damon quipped, drawing a grin out of Stefan. The moment was interrupted by the chirping of Stefan's pager. He picked it up and read the message.

"I've got to go," he said, already standing. "Got an ambulance three minutes out. I guess I'll see you when I see you." Damon stood as well, realizing this was likely going to be the last time he saw his brother before his flight tomorrow.

"I'll be back in a couple weeks," he said. He offered Stefan his hand and the two brothers shook. "Go save someone's life." Stefan grinned and winked at him, even as he started towards the exit.

"You go get Elena," he said over his shoulder. And with that, he turned and disappeared, leaving Damon to take yet another deep breath before heading for the door himself.

* * *

Elena lay awake, her head on Damon's chest as he slept. Both of his arms were around her, holding her firmly to his side. She gazed at him, taking in his relaxed features. She liked watching him sleep, she decided. It was the one time he was completely peaceful, the tension he seemed to always carry with him gone. He was beautiful, strong. He was also haunted by things that had happened in his past, by his mother and Katherine, she guessed. But he was still a good man.

Something had changed between them. She wasn't sure what it was, but she could feel it. Damon had been almost clingy since he'd shown up at Jenna and Ric's with a bouquet of flowers and an apology. He had tended to touch her frequently ever since their first date, small gestures like brushing her hair away from her face or holding her hand while he drove. But since their talk on the porch swing, he had been within an arm's length of her almost exclusively. His had kept his hand on the small of her back as they walked along the sidewalk to and from the frozen yogurt shop. He had leaned over and pressed a kiss to her temple while she'd chosen her toppings. He had held her hand throughout the evening and when he walked her to the door, he had held her tightly for a long time. She'd felt his reluctance to let her go, even as she promised to see him the next day. She hadn't entirely wanted to let him go either.

She had shown up at the Boarding House at almost the exact moment Damon had returned from the hospital. They had spent the afternoon on the couch, alternating between making out and finally watching _Fight Club. _They had ventured to the grocery store, bought ingredients to make their own pizza and spent the evening in the kitchen, cooking together, laughing, talking. And then, with the last plate loaded into the dishwasher, Damon had abandoned his gentlemanly behavior and pinned her against the counter before taking her up the stairs and having his way with her.

Now, she was watching him sleep and pretending tomorrow wasn't growing closer with every tick of the clock. She didn't want him to go. She had admitted that to herself. She had gone on their first date knowing he was leaving, but somehow, he had managed to get under her skin. He had crept up on her and she had fallen for him. She wasn't sure what, exactly, she felt for him, just that she liked him in a way that was different from how she liked Stefan, Tyler and Matt. She liked him _more. _

It was a good sign, she thought, that he wanted her to come to New York. His life was there and he was extending an invitation to her to be a part of it, at least for a weekend. She didn't know what that meant, but she was going to go and she was going to see what happened. A weekend in New York, with Damon on his own territory, would give her some insight into who he was outside of the man she had gotten to know in Mystic Falls. It would either fill in parts to the puzzle she was missing or leave her with even more questions, but it would tell her more about Damon nonetheless.

There was a conversation they would have to have at some point. They would have to put a definition on what they were or weren't and decide what would happen next. And there was the fact that she knew about Katherine. He hadn't so much as casually mentioned a high school girlfriend, even when she had told him a story about a disastrous night with a college boyfriend that involved a fire alarm, sprinklers and standing on the street in next to nothing while the fire department cleared the building. She told herself she hadn't mentioned Katherine yet because she was waiting for Damon to tell her himself, but she knew in reality, it was more that she didn't know how to bring it up.

"Lena?" Damon mumbled groggily, his eyes still closed.

"I'm here," Elena said quietly. She leaned up and kissed his cheek which seemed to soothe away whatever dream had woken him as he sighed and settled back down.

"Stay," he whispered. Elena smiled softly and turned her head slightly to place a kiss on his bare chest.

"I'm here," she said again. She closed her own eyes as her cheek went back to its place on his shoulder. She felt him place a gentle kiss the top of her head and tighten his arms around her even more before falling asleep.

* * *

Of all the ways he had pictured his return to New York, standing in an airport with his arms around a girl he didn't want to leave wasn't one of them. He had thought he would practically be skipping to the gate when he could finally escape Mystic Falls, maybe even buying a round of champagne for the whole plane to celebrate. Instead, he was fighting the urge to abandon his responsibilities, throw Elena over his shoulder, and head back to the Boarding House.

"You sure you have everything?" Elena asked, prolonging the inevitable.

"Well, you haven't climbed in my suitcase yet," Damon told her. "You're tiny. You could probably fit."

"Next to all of your hair products and Italian dress shoes? I don't think so."

"I'd be willing to sacrifice a pair of loafers or two," he said, gently rubbing circles on her back with his thumbs. "And I can always buy more hair products."

"Don't you have to change planes in Atlanta?" Elena asked. "What if your luggage got lost with me in it?"

"I would have to sue someone," Damon said seriously. "Right after I tracked down my bags, of course. There are a few shirts in there I really like." Elena shoved at his chest playfully, drawing a laugh from him. He released her from his embrace, only to take her hands in his. He raised them both to his lips and kissed them.

"I'll see you on Thursday?" he asked.

"For the third time since this morning, yes," Elena told him with a smile. "I will be landing at La Guardia around four and fully expect you to be there, waiting on me."

"3:35," Damon corrected. "And I will be there, even if I have to drive to Queens."

"I like Queens," Elena said. "It's diverse."

"It's not Manhattan," Damon retorted. "But even Manhattan will get a little brighter once you grace it with your presence."

"You're laying it on thick again," Elena observed. "Any reason for that?"

"Just want to make sure you remember me," Damon said. He leaned down and kissed her, something he had done several times since they checked his bags for his flight to Dallas.

"Because last night wasn't memorable enough."

"It was quite memorable," Damon agreed. He glanced at the monitor. "I need to get going," he said, more to himself than Elena.

"You do," Elena said, even as she tightened her hold on Damon's hands. Damon sighed and relinquished himself to the fact that he needed to board a plane.

"Come here," he said, pulling her to him. She knew this was it as she wrapped her arms around him and held her tight. He closed his eyes and breathed in her vanilla and lavender scent, memorizing it. "I'll call you when I land in Dallas."

"Okay," Elena said. She pulled away just enough so she could see Damon. "Travel safe." Damon smiled down at her and shook his head He found he often marveled at the fact that Elena worried about him, no matter how unwarranted it was. He hadn't had someone worry about him in years. It had also been a long time since he'd had someone to worry about.

"You be safe," he countered. "No running on the greenway by yourself. You would do well to keep your doors locked too."

"Whatever you say," Elena said with a smirk. Damon shook his head again, knowing his worries were falling on deaf ears. She sighed. "You still need to get through security," she reminded him. She glanced over her shoulder where there was no wait at the security check point, a perk of flying from a small airport.

"I do," he confirmed. He lifted her hands to his lips again and just looked at her for several long moments, his blue eyes on her brown ones. Then he blew out a breath. "I'll talk to you soon."

"Soon," Elena echoed. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. "And I'll see you Thursday."

"Thursday," Damon repeated. He tucked a few loose strands of hair behind her ear. He swallowed hard and leaned down to kiss her goodbye.

He had intended to remain under control, remember that he was in a public place and that there were children present. But the moment his lips landed on Elena's, he felt all the fire and all the passion that flowed between them and pulled her so close that every inch of her body was pressed against his. She kissed him back with just as much fervor, pulling at his jacket to hold him to her. When they broke away, it was only to breathe.

"Remember that," Damon told her, his forehead resting against hers.

"It's going to be hard to forget," Elena replied breathlessly.

"That was my intention," Damon smirked. "And I fully plan on picking up from where we left off when I pick you up at La Guardia. Remember that too." Elena chuckled.

"I will," she promised. The last call for a flight bound for Nashville sounded and she remembered where they were. "You should go."

"I should."

"But you're still standing here."

"I am," Damon agreed. He kissed her one more time before gently extricating himself from her arms. She was mere inches away, but it already felt like miles. "Okay. To Dallas I go."

"Win the game," Elena said, trying to crack a joke even as she felt tears prickling at the back of her eyes. Damon chuckled.

"That's sll on my client," he said. "All I need to do is make sure he doesn't say anything stupid when the _Dallas Morning News _interviews him pre-game tomorrow." His client didn't play for Dallas, but his charity work and high profile relationship were getting him more press than Damon cared to deal with. But if he was getting a reputable publication to interview him instead of made up stories in gossip rags, Damon was going to be there to make sure it was flawless.

"Well, good luck," Elena said. She was smiling, but Damon could see that she was faking it for his benefit. He reached down and picked up his backpack from the floor filled with his electronics and a book for the plane. He slung it on his back and then grasped the handle of his wheeler bag.

"See you in Queens," he said, his eyes back on Elena.

"Where you've promised to continue that kiss," she said. Damon nodded and gave her his most dazzling smile.

"Bye, Lena," he said softly.

"See you soon, Damon," she replied. He grinned and nodded.

"I like that better," he said. "See you soon." He took a few steps towards the security gate but stopped and pivoted on his heels. His lips were crashing down on Elena's one more time before she had registered he had turned around. "Remember that one too," he said as he pulled away.

"You do the same."

"I will," he promised.

He turned again and this time, he made himself continue towards the security gate. He looked over his shoulder though and saw Elena still standing there, watching him as he walked away. He gave her another smile and nodded at her once. She replied with a small wave and a smile, even as her eyes glistened with unshed tears he'd be willing to bet his car she didn't want him to see. With a heavy sigh and his heart fully with Elena, he turned back to the gate attendant and pulled out his ticket and ID.

* * *

**I hated sending Damon back to New York, but we all saw it coming. Time for a little change of scenery, I guess. :) **

**I've always been jealous of how guys can scrape out a 'sorry, dude' and be best friends again within five minutes. If the Salvatore brothers were sisters, they would have never been so cordial in that hospital cafeteria. Of course, they really just manage to rub some dirt on the wound and move on without really addressing the issue. **

**So what'd you think? I've been fighting a pretty nasty cold all week so I'd love to read your opinions between doses of cold meds! **


	16. Enzo

**It's rather late at the time I'm posting this and after a super busy weekend that involved early mornings, I'm a bit delirious so please forgive any spelling or grammatical errors - I'm not using a beta and did a final edit with one eye shut. :) **

**I loved your reactions to the last chapter! Sending Damon off to NYC was unfortunate, but I too loved their airport moment. I think there are likely a few more airport scenes ahead. ;) THANK YOU for continuing to read and review! I can't believe I'm closing in on 300 reviews for this! **

**This chapter is one of those "filler" kind of deals except it's not _really _a filler since it has a lot of details that are small, but contribute to the overall story. I hope you enjoy it! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

"That Damon?" Caroline asked as Elena returned to the room with her phone in her hand and a small, wistful smile on her face.

"Yeah," Elena confirmed as she sat down on the couch. "He finally made it to Dallas, hours behind schedule. He said the flight was horrible and it's storming like crazy. And he's apparently really excited about eating at some place called Whataburger."

"Oh, jealous!" Caroline replied enthusiastically. "I had Whataburger when Tyler and I went to Destin on vacation a couple years ago. There were like 7,000 calories in my burger, but it was amazing."

"Good, Damon is clogging his arteries," Elena replied. She reached for her glass of wine and propped her feet up next to Caroline's on the coffee table.

"It's worth it," Caroline promised. "And have you seen Damon's body? One Whataburger meal isn't going to hurt him in the least." Then she remembered who she was talking to. "What am I saying? Of course you've seen Damon's body. All of it, from what I understand."

"And here we go," Elena said under her breath.

"Yes, here we go!" Caroline said as she turned to face Elena, bringing her legs underneath her and assuming what Elena liked to call her gossip position, her eyes sparkling. "You slept with him! Several times!"

"Not several," Elena said. "Like…A few."

"Did you do it more than once last night?" Caroline asked.

"Caroline!"

"Elena, come on!" she urged. "It's me, your best friend since we were toddlers in the sandbox. You can give me the details. Especially since I invited you over for a sleepover so I could cheer you up after you sent your boyfriend off to the big city."

"He's not my boyfriend."

"You want him to be."

"Maybe I do," Elena admitted. "But that's on him."

"He wants you too," Caroline said with confidence. "I can tell."

"No one can tell anything about Damon," Elena replied with a shake of his head. "He's a mystery, even to his own brother, and especially to me."

"I don't think Damon is as complicated as everyone thinks," Caroline mused. She leaned forward and reached for the bowl of popcorn she had popped earlier. She had poured a bag of M&Ms in it for good measure, ensuring the proper mix of salty and sweet. "I think he's one of those guys who got hurt early in life, didn't mature emotionally, and therefore doesn't do a very good job of letting people get close to him." Elena looked at her friend for a long moment.

"You are incredibly observant," she finally stated.

"I know people think I'm a dumb blonde that is obsessed with planning my wedding and throwing parties," Caroline replied, digging her hand into the bowl again. "And I am obsessed with planning my wedding and throwing parties. I've been planning my wedding since I was five and throwing parties pays my bills. I know people write me off as the dumb blonde. That should probably piss me off and sometimes, it does. But because people tend to see the blonde hair and the big boobs and not the brain I happen to also possess, I can sit and observe and see things for what they really are. And when I look at Damon, I see a guy who is incredibly guarded but who, for whatever reason, has decided that you get to know the real him."

"I don't think you're a dumb blonde," Elena told him. Caroline smiled at her.

"I know you don't," she said. "Which means you believe me when I say Damon likes you." Elena reached for the popcorn.

"It's just so complicated," she admitted. "I like him, Caroline. I didn't intend to. I actually couldn't stand him when I first met him. He was so crude at his father's funeral and you should have heard him on the phone that day he sat down with me – uninvited, might I add – at the coffee shop, demanding whoever was on the phone give him his way and telling me with this cocky attitude that he always gets what he wants.

"But then he walked me home from The Grill that night and we argued about _Faulkner. _He took me on a date and he talked about things like my book and all of our favorite places in New York. He was so sweet to me the night of the carnival when the storms rolled in and he showed up at Jenna's door practically at the crack of dawn after his trip to New York, just because he wanted to see me. He had his less than attractive moment the other night with the drinking and the showing up at my place. But he apologized and he meant it.

"He didn't want to leave today. I could feel it. He kept delaying, kept finding a reason to kiss me one more time or to ask me if I'm coming to New York on Thursday one more time." She paused to take another handful of popcorn. "I cried when I got in my car, Care. I actually freaking cried. I'm not sure how I managed to make it to my car, because my eyes started filling with tears at the same moment he walked through the security line."

Caroline studied her friend for a long moment. "So is that your way of saying you know Damon likes you?" she asked finally. Elena grinned.

"I guess," she admitted. "But like I said, it's complicated. He lives in New York. I live here. My life is here and his in New York. And the Damon that I know here isn't the same Damon that lives in New York. I've heard him on the phone, barking orders and making demands. I can only imagine what he's like at the negotiating table. He loves New York. He loves that big city, fast paced life. I love it here, sitting by the lake on a clear day, reading a book, writing another chapter. I don't know how we reconcile that."

"Well, you start with having the big 'relationship' discussion," Caroline advised. "And once you figure out if the two of you are going to do the relationship thing, you figure the rest of it out as it comes." Elena sighed and fell back against the couch.

"I really want to do the relationship thing with im," she confessed. "And that is probably the worst decision I will ever make."

"Or the best one," Caroline said, joining Elena in leaning back against the couch. She placed the popcorn ball between them. "You two would make some beautiful babies."

"Caroline!"

"You would!" Caroline insisted. "He's all dark and handsome. You're all lithe and beautiful. With that gene pool, your kids would be flawless." Elena couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face.

"You should see him with Ella," she said, knowing there were things she could tell Caroline that she wouldn't dare tell anyone else, especially Damon. "He's good with her. He's entirely uncomfortable with her and absolutely awkward, but he's still so good with her. She loves him."

"Name your first kid after me?" Caroline asked.

"What is it with you blondes?" Elena countered. "You're naming my kids after you, Rebekah has appointed herself as a bridesmaid in me and Damon's wedding. And Damon and I aren't even an official couple."

"If Rebekah gets to be a bridesmaid, I get to be the maid of honor," Caroline stated with indignation. "I've known you way longer. And! I get to plan the wedding."

"Can Damon and I figure out if we're a couple first?" Elena asked, somewhat exasperated by Caroline.

"Well, yeah. Figure that out first. And then we can get to the good stuff." Elena rolled her eyes and decided to change the topic.

"Did you and Tyler ever agree on a centerpiece?" she asked.

"Sort of. We narrowed it down to two. I was hoping to choose one and move on to the favors, but then Tyler…," Caroline trailed off. She reached for her glass of wine. "What do you want to watch? Chick flick, horror movie or educational documentary?" Elena looked at her friend with a critical eye, catching on quickly that something was up, and shook her head.

"Oh no," she said. "No. You just birthed my imaginary kids with Damon who isn't even my boyfriend. You don't get to run right up to something about Tyler and then change the subject. What did Tyler do?"

"Nothing," Caroline said innocently. "He didn't do anything."

"Caroline…" The blonde sighed.

"You can't tell anyone," she said, turning to Elena. "Like, anyone."

"You know your secrets are always safe with me, Caroline. Didn't we just go over how I could tell you anything? Same goes for you."

"I know," Caroline said with a nod. She swirled the wine in her glass and took a deep breath. "Okay. Here it goes. Tyler got a job offer." Elena's eyes widened.

"That's great!" she said. "I didn't know he was looking."

"He wasn't," Caroline said. "He was approached by another law firm. They were impressed with his work. It's been less than a year since he passed the bar exam, but he's been really successful. It's a great opportunity with a great firm and he'd have the chance to be partner in a few years."

"Why do I hear a 'but' coming?" Elena asked suspiciously. Caroline sighed.

"The firm is in Richmond."

Silence fell between the two as Elena processed what Caroline had just said. Caroline stewed, the fact that she had finally been able to tell someone what she had been fretting over since the previous evening not doing anything to help in the way she thought it would.

"Is he going to take it?" Elena finally asked.

"I don't know," Caroline admitted. "He wants to. He really, really wants to. He hasn't told me that outright, but I can tell. He was all glow-y and excited when he talked about it. It's the perfect job for him. It's just in Richmond."

"Richmond isn't that far away," Elena said carefully. "It's an hour and a half, tops."

"But it's not Mystic Falls," Caroline argued. "I would have to leave everything and everyone and I would never see you."

"Caroline, it's Richmond," Elena said again. "I live almost an hour outside of Mystic Falls and I see you all the time…"

"The lake is west of Mystic Falls!" Caroline interrupted, doing the math in her head. "And Richmond is east of here! I'd be like, two and a half hours from you, Elena!"

"We spent four years on opposite coasts," Elena reminded her. "And several more with you here in Virginia and me in New York. We're still best friends. You being in Richmond isn't going to change that. Besides, think of how much better the shopping is down there."

"I know it isn't far away," Caroline admitted. "But it's _Richmond_. I always thought we would grow old here. Our kids would go to the same schools we did and grow up with your kids and Bonnie and Jeremy's kids. Hopefully Stefan's too if that stupid hospital has the good sense to hire him as an attending in a few years. If I move to Richmond, that's not going to happen."

"Have you talked to Tyler about all of this?" Elena asked.

"Sort of. He knows me well enough to know how hard moving would be. I just… Don't want to go. But I don't want him to give up this chance either."

"It's my turn to dole out the advice," Elena said. "Caroline, talk to Tyler. Really talk to him. Tell him how you feel. But also think about how he feels. This is a huge opportunity for him and the two of you are going to be married come spring. And also, remember that it's Richmond, not Southern California." Caroline smiled and nodded her understanding.

"I love you, Elena," she said. Elena returned her smile.

"I love you too, Care."

"Chick flick, horror movie or educational documentary?"

"Chick flick," Elena decided. "You pick." Caroline picked up a remote and scrolled through the titles on Netflix, settling on one they had seen a half dozen times.

"Bonnie is missing out," Caroline said, going for the popcorn once more. "How could going a date with your husband trump spending the night with your best friends?"

"Promise me something?" Elena asked in return.

"Anything."

"Promise me that when you and Tyler get married, we'll still have girl nights?" Caroline scoffed.

"Duh," she said, linking arms with Elena and resting her head on Elena's shoulder. "Who else would I talk about boys and watch Channing Tatum movies with?"

* * *

"My invitation to this pity party must have gotten lost in the mail," Damon drawled, sidling up to the bar. "Nothing for me," he told the bartender who was already approaching him.

"How'd you find me?" Enzo asked, nursing a mixed drink that Damon suspected was more whiskey and less mixer.

"You're not very smart," Damon countered, sitting down next to his client. "You have had one concussion too many, breaking tackles and scoring touchdowns. Otherwise, you wouldn't check yourself out of rehab and go to the same bar you always go to when you're trying to drown your problems in a bottle."

"Let me guess, you're here to drag me back to that godforsaken place you call an inpatient treatment facility, whether I want to go or not?" Enzo turned up his drink to punctuate his point.

"I'm here to escort you back to that inpatient treatment facility when you decide you're ready to go back to that inpatient treatment facility," Damon replied. "Because we both know you want to get your shit together."

"Do I?" Enzo countered. "How do you know I don't to say screw it all and drink myself into an early grave? Maybe take a few recreational drugs to speed up the process?"

"You love football," Damon told him. "It's what you do and you do it well. Besides that, you have a family that loves you and supports you. You have a girlfriend who adores you. You have the opportunity to be a success story, Enzo. You have the chance to beat your demons and be an inspiration to someone else that thinks they can't overcome addiction and lead the life they dream about when they're coming down from a high. You have that chance, if you don't drink yourself into that early grave first."

"You're one to talk about demons," Enzo shot back. "We both know you have a whole chorus line of them. You coming down on me for drinking and drugs and partying a little too much? Doesn't quite carry the same weight when you turn to the bottle yourself."

"I have my own demons," Damon admitted. "I don't always deal with them in the best way. Some of those demons reared their ugly heads lately and I did some things I'm not proud of. I had to suck up my pride and admit that I was wrong. I had to do some groveling. I do have my demons. You're right about that. But none of them have landed me in rehab or kept me from doing my job."

"I hate it in there," Enzo admitted. "All they want to do is talk about why. Why alcohol? Why did this thing make me feel this way? Why do I keep falling back into old patterns? If I knew, don't you think I'd stop doing it?"

"Old habits are hard to break," Damon replied. He took out his phone, tapped the screen a few times, and passed it to Enzo. He took it and looked at the screen which was filled with a beautiful woman, laughing as she sat in an Adirondack chair with her legs tucked under her, a lake filling the background.

"Who's this?" he asked.

"That's Elena," Damon answered. "You interrupted me having dinner with her to tell me you were going back to rehab. I had to leave her and fly up here the next day to deal with your ass. And instead of talking to her right now to tell her goodnight, I'm sitting in a bar with sticky floors and generic liquor, waiting for you to decide to go back to rehab and get your life together, once and for all."

"She your girlfriend?" Enzo asked, passing Damon the phone back and ignoring his rehab comment.

"I hope so," Damon told him. "You love your girlfriend, right? Amanda, I think her name is?" Enzo nodded.

"Amanda," he confirmed. "I love her more than my own life. She's everything to me."

"Then how do you live with yourself, putting her through all of this time and time again?" Damon asked. "I got drunk and showed my ass last week when some of those demons came back to haunt me. I hurt Elena and it nearly killed me, seeing the disappointment in her eyes. She forgave me after I groveled, but I still haven't quite forgiven myself. So how do you put Amanda through that time and time again? And a better question, why does she stay? Because Elena made it clear to me under no uncertain terms that she wasn't going to stick around if I continued to behave like that."

Enzo took a long hard look at Damon. The man had been his agent for the last three years and had stuck by him through thick and thin, even when he didn't deserve it. In the early days, right after he had signed with Damon, they had hit the town together often, drinking and partying into the wee hours of the morning, acting more like buddies and less like agent and athlete. Damon had stepped back from that life though, once he met Katherine, while he himself had just kept going deeper and deeper into a world of drugs and booze that he could never quite escape from, no matter how hard he tried.

When Katherine had cheated on Damon, he had thought he had his old drinking buddy back. And at first, he had. But then, Damon had remembered their professional relationship and made it his own personal cause to help him, get him into rehab and cleaned up, even when Damon himself spent his nights drinking alone, picking up women and living a life of debauchery. While Damon had tried to help him, Enzo had in turn hoped Damon didn't end up like him. It was an endless circle of them trying to prop each other up, send the other in the right direction when they themselves were drowning.

But now, Damon was talking about an Elena. Enzo knew without knowing much at all about her that the girl was special. She was different. While Damon had cleaned up his act with Katherine, he had still lived hard, made questionable decisions and let the consequences fall where they may. But here Damon was now, sitting beside him and asking him, point blank, how he could continue to hurt the love of his life and risk losing her, because he himself couldn't handle seeing the hurt and disappointment in Elena's eyes, even just the once. Of all the things Damon had told him over the years in an effort to get him to straighten up and get his life together, that was the first thing that had actually hit home. He couldn't lose Amanda and while she had stuck by him, he knew their relationship was currently held together by the barest of threads. He couldn't lose her. Nothing, especially a temporary high, was worth that.

"Do me a favor?" he asked, taking out his wallet and throwing down a fifty to cover his drinks. "Call Elena on our way back to the rehab facility and let her know I'm sorry for keeping you from saying goodnight." Damon nodded and clapped Enzo's shoulder.

"Come on," he said. "I'll get us a cab."

* * *

Damon fell across his bed, not bothering to remove his dress shirt which he had untucked as he rode the elevator to his apartment or his suit pants which he had long ago decided were nowhere near as comfortable as his jeans. He let out a groan as he kicked off one shoe then the other, each landing on the floor with a thud. He halfheartedly attempted to remove his socks, but it required too much energy, so he didn't.

He was the kind of tired he felt down in his very bones. He had forgotten how hectic of a routine he kept in New York. In Mystic Falls, he had woken up at his leisure, a time that had gotten progressively earlier as each day had passed, his noon wakeup times turning into by seven most mornings, eight when he slept late. He would have a cup of coffee, scrounge up something for breakfast, and then spend the rest of the day working from the media room couch, the coffee shop, The Grill, Elena's, wherever he happened to be. And when he was done for the day, he could spend the remainder of the evening doing whatever he wanted.

In New York, he was up early, usually before the sun, even earlier if he wanted to go for a run first. He was in his office by eight unless he had scheduled a breakfast meeting. Once there, he liked to start the day with a briefing with his handful of employees before retreating to his desk to take calls, return emails. There was almost always a lunch meeting, usually other meetings and conference calls throughout the day. He had dinner plans with clients or contacts he wanted to schmooze for an endorsement deal or media coverage almost every night. He usually got wrangled into drinks and before he knew it, it was midnight.

He wondered how he had kept up with that schedule before and still been able to engage in long nights of whiskey and women. All he wanted to do right then was sleep and it was just a few minutes past ten, an early night by all accounts. His phone rang out and he groped for it. He didn't bother to check the screen before answering.

"'Lo?"

"Hi," came Elena's soft voice. Damon was instantly more alert.

"'Lena, hey," he said. He pushed himself upright and moved so he was resting against his headboard, his pillows providing a nice cushion.

"Did I wake you?" she asked, noting his tired tone.

"No. Although if you would have called five minutes later, you may have."

"If you want to get to sleep…"

"No," Damon said, cutting her off. "I haven't talked to you all day."

"Technically, you emailed me earlier," she reminded him.

"That doesn't count. That was electronic and impersonal. This is better. Still not great, but better."

"You sound exhausted," Elena said.

"I am," Damon admitted. "Been a long, long day."

"You said that yesterday," Elena reminded him. "You sure you're up for me later this week?"

"You are the metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel," Damon told her. "I've cleared my schedule for Thursday afternoon. I have a few meetings Friday, but I'm all yours for the rest of the weekend after three o'clock."

"That works out," Elena replied. "I'm going to go shopping for a dress to wear on Saturday. I've decided I hate everything I own." Damon smiled.

"You could wear a burlap sack and look beautiful, Elena."

"Will you be wearing a tux?" Elena asked. She had looked up the gala she would be attending with Damon and couldn't stop the excitement that was starting to bubble. She had attended formal affairs before, but almost never with a date. She was looking forward to it, almost as much as she was looking forward to seeing Damon again.

"Unfortunately," he answered. "Do me a favor?"

"Of course."

"Make sure your dress is easily removed. I don't intend to leave it on you for very long." He could practically see Elena's blush through the phone. He smirked to himself. Even exhausted, he still had it in him.

"It's a classy affair," she reminded him. "I will dress accordingly."

"Lady on the street…"

"Do not finish that sentence," Elena warned, making Damon laugh.

"The sentiment is the same, no matter whether I finish my sentence or not." He drew a laugh out of Elena which made him smile. Without knowing it, she was taking away all of his stress from the day, just by calling him to say goodnight.

"I saw Peter today," Elena said, changing the subject. "I was doing some research for the next article I'm writing for the _Mystic Falls Times _and I ended up at the Salvatore mill."

"Place still standing?" Damon asked. It was his to run, at least for now, but he hadn't taken the time to so much as visit following the reading of his father's will. He had gotten drunk, spent the next day trying to remember what he'd done and apologizing to Elena and the day after that, he had tended to a few urgent work emails, apologized to Stefan and spent the rest of the day with Elena. He'd had his father's accountant send him the financial records and he had tried to look at them, intended to get them to his own accountant, but he hadn't had much time as he attempted to dig himself out of the hole he had fallen into by more or less not working over his last few days in Mystic Falls.

"It is in upright and working order," Elena confirmed. "Although Peter did ask about you. It appears you impressed him when you visited a couple weeks ago."

"He's a decent guy," Damon agreed. A thought struck him and he groaned.

"Dammit," he muttered.

"What?" Elena acquired. Damon sighed.

"I'm supposed to sign off on payroll for the mill before midnight tonight. I forgot all about it." He was already dragging himself out of bed, hoping he would be able to find the document detailing how to log into the payroll system and make approvals in the next hour and a half.

"Damon, are you okay?" Elena asked.

It was Tuesday. Each time she had spoken to him, it seemed he was a little more stressed out, would a little tighter. Saturday he had travel issues and then Sunday, he had overseen his client's interview and attended the subsequent football game before catching a redeye back to New York. Elena was pretty sure he had never gone to sleep, or at least not slept more than a couple of hours, before he was up and running on Monday. He had spent much of the day in meetings, playing catch up when he had a moment. Then he had dealt with Enzo before pouring in late, sending her a goodnight text after an earlier phone call from the cab with Enzo. She knew from the email she had woken up to that morning – time stamped before 7AM – that he had gotten little sleep before waking up to do it all over again.

"I'm fine," he said. He located the briefcase he had dropped just inside his front door, sat down on his couch, and opened it. He pulled out a mess of papers, silently cursing himself for letting it get so disorganized. He was nothing if not anal retentive and the mess in his briefcase did nothing but shoot his anxiety up another few points. "Just playing catch up."

"I should let you go…"

"No!" Damon said quickly. "I'm sorry," he added, apologizing. "I'm just wound a litter tighter than usual, trying to get caught up and back into the swing of things. But the good news is, you'll be here in less than 48 hours and I know a few excellent stress relievers."

"Do you?" Elena asked innocently.

"I do," Damon confirmed. He found the paper he was looking for and then went to work turning on his laptop. "Don't bother packing any underwear. You won't need it." He heard Elena gasp on the other end. "In fact," he continued, "don't bother with clothes at all. I assure you, they are not necessary."

"So we're going to this gala in the buff?"

"We could skip it," Damon said, only half kidding. He typed in his password to log into his computer system. "Just stay at my place, in my bed. On the couch. The kitchen counter. I'm really not picky."

"Sorry, but you promised me the chance to get all dressed up and see you in a tux," Elena told him. "And that's what you're going to deliver." Damon chuckled.

"What the lady wants, the lady gets," he said. "Especially in bed…"

"Damon!" he laughed again, proud of himself for making her squirm on her end of the phone. He opened an internet browser and typed in the website he needed to access the payroll portal. "Anything in particular you want to see or do while you're here? Besides me?" He could practically hear Elena rolling her eyes.

"I wouldn't hate a trip to that sushi place I love," she told him.

"Sushi night it is," he said. He stifled a yawn, even as he read the login instructions to the portal. He typed everything in accordingly and waited, checking the clock. He had just under an hour to sign off, assuring everyone was paid appropriately and on time.

"Anything you need me to bring you from Mystic Falls?" Elena asked.

"Yes," he confirmed. "You." Damon frowned as the screw filled up with columns of names and numbers, sick time and vacation days. There was a place for retirement contributions and insurance deductions, not to mention taxes.

"My ticket has already been purchased," Elena told him. "All I need to do now is pack."

"You don't need to pack," Damon reminded her, clicking through tabs and columns on the screen as he tried to make sense of what was in front of him. "We're not wearing clothes, remember?"

"Trust me, you want me to pack a few of the things I have in mind," Elena teased. Damon hardly registered her flirtatious comment as he realized the task before him wasn't going to be as simple as checking a few boxes and clicking submit. "Damon?" Elena prompted when he didn't respond.

"What? Sorry," he said, shaking his head a bit. He sighed. "This payroll system is more complex than I thought," he told her. "As much as I'd love to work on convincing you to be naked with me the whole time you're here, I need to figure out how to pay these people in the next hour so they don't quit on me after they check their bank accounts tomorrow morning."

"Okay," Elena said. "Call me tomorrow if you get a chance?"

"I'll call you even if I don't have a chance," Damon replied. "I still have to convince you to go to the gala naked.

"Good luck with that," Elena quipped. "Get some sleep, okay?"

"Sleep?" Damon asked. "Isn't that like coffee for people with too much free time?"

"Ha ha," Elena replied. She stifled a yawn of her own. "Goodnight, Damon."

"Night, angel," he said. On her end, Elena smiled. "Sweet dreams."

When the call ended, Damon let out another long sigh and sat back on the couch, taking his laptop with him as he started to make sense of what was happening on the screen. A guilty feeling tugged at his heartstrings, having everything to do with not being able to talk to Elena like he'd hoped. He also got the feeling there was something he had forgotten to tell her.

* * *

**Caroline is so fun to write, mainly because I don't think of her as the "dumb blonde" her character can sometimes be shown as on the show. I like to think of her as a smart chick who knows how to take advantage of situations when necessary. And Enzo... He's not going to be a significant character around here, but he will appear from time to time and always with a purpose. It's not just Elena Damon is protective over... **

**And speaking of Damon... Poor guy. He's some kind of tired. This whole burning the candle at both ends thing is rough. **

**Let me know what you think, please! **


	17. Sushi

**WHEW! It's been a ridiculous week in real life and I never could find enough time to post an update midweek like I like to and so, I'm posing an _extra _long one full of New York goodness! I hope you enjoy! **

**Thank you all for reviewing. I'd say we're about 2/3s of the way through and you continue to amaze me with your responses. Thank you a 1,000 times over! **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

Nerves, coupled with excitement, coursed through Elena as she de-planed. She couldn't wait to see Damon, to spend some time in New York and attend a big, fancy event as his date. But she was also hyper aware of the fact that she was spending time with him on his turf. She was anxious to see Damon in his element, see how it deferred from the man she'd come to know in Mystic Falls.

She dug her phone out of her bag and turned it on as she walked, her roller bag trailing behind her. She glanced at the signs directing her towards baggage claim while her screen filled with notifications as the phone came to life. There was a scandalous text from Rebekah and a couple from Stefan, one telling her to have a good trip, the other asking her to tell Damon to give him a call when he got a chance. Just as she was texting Jeremy to let him know she arrived safely, a text from Damon filled her screen.

"_I know your plane has landed. Hurry up and get out here. I'm waiting." _Elena smiled and tapped out a reply.

"_New York makes you less patient." _It was less than a minute before her phone chimed again as she rode down the escalator to where her luggage was due to arrive.

"_I'm in Queens and you're mere feet away from me. Screw patience." _Elena laughed and dropped her phone back in her bag. She stepped off the escalator, already looking for Damon. Her eyes fell on him almost at once, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. He was wearing a sharp suit that was tailored to his body in a way that made her think impure thoughts in the middle of baggage claim as he scanned the sea of people flooding the area. The smile that broke across her face was so big it hurt as she made her way to him. She was still several yards away when he finally saw her.

"Elena," he said, breaking into a smile. He started towards her dodging around an older woman who was standing in place, looking confused. He was in front of her in moments.

"Damon," she said, her eyes locking with his. She remembered just then how much she had missed those blue eyes in the handful of days since she'd last seen them.

"Come here," Damon ordered, already reaching for her. She let go of the handle of her roller bag and her oversized purse swung wildly from her shoulder as she took the final step to close the space between them, her arms wrapping around his neck tightly. Damon's own arms wound around her waist, pulling her flush against him. He took a moment to just breathe her in, his nose buried in her hair, closing his eyes as he allowed himself to feel all the things he was feeling without giving them any label. Then he pulled away, but only enough to look at Elena.

"Now where were we?" he asked. Elena had just enough time to register the devilish look on his face before his lips were on hers, picking up where their searing kiss at the Charlottesville airport had left off, just as he had promised he would.

"Right about there," Elena breathed when he finally broke away. A woman with two small children passed, giving them a dirty look as she went.

"Someone's not happy at home," Damon quipped, looking after her.

"Damon!" Elena chided, slapping him lightly on the chest.

"Easy, princess," Damon said, taking her hand in his. "There's plenty of time for whips and chains."

"Remind me why I came?" Elena asked, feigning annoyance. Damon lifted her hand and grazed his lips across the back of it.

"To wear a pretty dress, make all my friends jealous and have some of the best sex of your life," he answered.

"I thought I was here to have some great sushi," Elena said thoughtfully.

"You can eat all the sushi you want," Damon replied, pulling her to him again. "If you can leave my bed long enough to place an order." Elena rolled her eyes, earning another chuckle and a quick kiss from Damon. "No worries, beautiful. I promise to let you out on the town a time or two while you're here. I want to show you off. But first, let's get your luggage. They're gauging me on parking."

Elena led the way to the correct baggage carousel and spied her bag almost right away as it was one of the only ones left on the belt. She pointed it out to Damon who retrieved it, asking if she packed everything she owned, based on the size and weight of the suitcase. Even with her heavy suitcase, he placed his free hand on her lower back and steered her through the crowd. It seemed his need to touch her extended to New York. Once outside, he stopped and wrangled her roller bag from her, stacking the bag and her suitcase precariously so they could navigate the parking garage. They reached an upper deck and Damon started towards a sleek black Mercedes coupe. Elena let out a whistle.

"That's a bit of a change from your Camaro," she said. Damon took his keys out of his pocket and pushed a button to open the trunk.

"It's a little more Big Apple appropriate then my Chevy," he said as he lifted Elena's bags into the trunk. "Do me a favor? Don't mention this thing to Stefan. I gave him a hard time about having a foreign car. No need for him to know I've got this little piece of German engineering."

"Your secret is safe with me," Elena said with amusement. "Speaking of Stefan, I'm supposed to tell you to call him."

"I will one of these days," Damon responded dismissively. His hands found Elena's hips and he backed her up against the side of his car. "I'm more concerned with seeing you right now."

"Good," Elena told him. She placed a hand on his cheek. "Because I'm way more fun that Stefan." With that, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him, teasing him with a promise of what would come later.

"Let's go home," Damon muttered against her lips. He kissed her one more time, then opened her door for her, ushering her inside the car's leather cabin. He folded himself into the driver's seat and reached for Elena's hand before cranking up the car.

It took the better part of an hour to make their way to Damon's Manhattan apartment, the rush hour traffic thick. Normally, Damon would have lost his patience fifteen minutes in. But with Elena to keep him company, he found he didn't mind the stop and go, listening with a grin as she kept up a running commentary, filling him in on her week and interrupting herself when she recognized a landmark that brought back some memory from her college days. He hadn't been able to talk to her nearly as much as he wanted to over the week and this, listening to her chatter aimlessly, made him feel more relaxed than he had since he'd sat down in his seat on the first leg of his flight to Dallas.

In the heart of Manhattan, Damon turned off the busy street into a parking garage, each slot filled with BMWs, Porches, Mercedes, Aston Martins. He smoothly turned into his assigned spot, between a Bentley and a BMW SUV. "Stay put," he directed Elena. He got out of the car and hurried around to open Elena's door.

"Thank you," she said as she slipped out of the car. Damon's answer was to give her a smile and then pop his trunk, removing her bags. She didn't bother arguing with him when he insisted he carry them. She bit her lip to keep from smirking. For all of his big city swagger, he had the ability to be a complete gentleman when he wanted to be. Elena couldn't help but think his mother would have been proud.

"This way," he said, suddenly nervous as he led Elena into the elevator. The last woman he had in his apartment had been Katherine almost a full year ago and she hadn't been welcomed. She had shown up a few days after he moved out of the apartment they had shared, asking him to take her back as though it were a business transaction and not a relationship. He had thrown her out and vowed to never let another woman invade his space – or his heart. But he was breaking all the rules with Elena.

"I like the suit," Elena told him as the elevator doors closed. "It screams 'I'm a big, bad sports agent."" Damon smirked at her.

"That's the point," he said. He glanced at the floor ticker and saw they still had a number of floors to go. He took the opportunity to snake an arm around Elena and pull her to him. "Don't think I haven't noticed how low those jeans are sitting on your hips," he said in a husky voice.

"Are they?" Elena asked, feigning innocence. She had been going for comfort when choosing an outfit for travel, but she did know the jeans she had selected, while old and worn, melded to her form perfectly. Damon let out what she could only describe as a muffled growl.

"You know exactly what you're doing," he accused.

"Yes," Elena confirmed. "I do." She reached for his tie and used it as the leverage she needed to pull him down to her, letting out a moan of her own as he tongue slipped past her lips. Too soon for either of them, a bell chimed and the door slid open, indicating they had reached Damon's floor. Elena let go of his tie with a smirk and stepped out into the hallway.

"Follow me," he said, leading her down the hall. When he stopped in front of his door, unlocked it and pushed it open. "Ladies first," he said, beckoning Elena ahead of him. She could sense his growing anxiety and gave him a smile to reassure him.

The apartment was a stark contrast from the Salvatore Boarding House. While the home Damon had grown up in was grand and ornate and practically dripping with family heirlooms and priceless antiques, his sprawling apartment was minimalistic, at best. With dark hardwood floors, the décor was a palette of stark whites, blacks and grays. Large floor-to-ceiling windows lined most of one wall and she knew the view of the city would be spectacular from them.

A big, black leather couch was the focal point of the living room. It was bookended by acrylic end tables, each holding a sole industrial-looking stainless steel lamp. An acrylic coffee table stood on a plush white rug and was littered with a few sports and men's health magazines as well as a remote. Two leather armchairs flanked the sofa, angled towards the coffee table to create a community feel should they ever be occupied, although Elena got the distinct impression they were rarely used. A massive flat screen was mounted on the wall across from the couch and below it, a sleek stainless steel shelving unit housed a number of electronics and DVD cases+.

The wall opposite the door was lined with a floor to ceiling black bookshelf. Most of the shelves were full of books, but some held other knickknacks like autographed footballs and championship plaques. It reminded Elena of an office display rather than a living room. She wandered towards the small, open kitchen as Damon brought in Elena's bags. He left them by the door and stood nearby, watching her as she took in his place.

Like the living room, the kitchen was all black and stainless steel, with top of the line appliances that looked like were rarely used. Barstools that served more as décor than seating lined one side of the kitchen island. She was almost relieved to find Damon's bar cart. It was well-stocked with quality liquor and an assortment of glasses. It was the one thing in the apartment so far that actually looked like Damon. Even a small four person table, tucked to the side of the kitchen, was acrylic. A single black, square bowl with fake oranges sat in the middle, providing an almost out of place pop of color.

The space was, Elena realized, completely null and void of any personal artifacts. The walls were largely sparse, what little artwork that adorned them abstract and lacking color. The place was a complete 180 from not only the Salvatore Boarding House but her own home at the lake. It didn't reflect Damon. Even so, she turned to him with a smile as she approached the windows.

"This is quite the view," she observed. Amidst the towering apartment and office buildings outside of Damon's window, she could make out a number of New York landmarks from his window, including a view of the Hudson River.

"It just got a whole lot better," Damon quipped, coming to join her. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top couple of buttons of his shirt. "I was thinking we could stay in tonight, relax, maybe watch a movie…" His hands were already on her. They both knew a snowball in hell stood a better chance than the two of them did at making it through a whole movie without ripping each other's clothes off.

"I think that sounds perfect," she said. She reached up and pushed his suit jacket from his shoulders, deciding it was time for him to get comfortable, look more like the Damon she knew. He helped her with removing the jacket and then dropped it over a kitchen chair.

"Good," Damon said. He undid the cuffs of his dress shirt and pushed them up, already feeling the tension from the week melting away. "I even went grocery shopping." Elena raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Fine. I had groceries delivered this morning," he admitted. "But the sentiment was the same. I'll cook dinner for us."

"And I'll help," Elena replied. She found Damon wasn't the only one unable to keep his hands to himself as she slid her arms around his waist.

"Oh no you won't," Damon informed her. "Your only job is to sit and be pretty."

"We'll see," Elena relented. Damon dropped his lips to land on her forehead.

"Come on. Let me show you the bedroom."

He gently extracted himself from her embrace, retrieved her bags, and led her into his bedroom. Like the rest of the house, it was minimalistic. His king-sized bed took up a large portion of the room and was made up entirely of black and grey linens, the same white rugs from the living room covering the floor. His dresser and nightstands were black with steel handles. The room also had a series of floor to ceiling windows, these tinted to avoid anyone from seeing inside. Aside from his cologne and a set of cufflinks littering the top of a dresser, the bedroom was also largely impersonal.

"Someone's a neat freak," Elena teased. She had realized that about Damon early on. His car was spotless, his room at the Salvatore Boarding House neat and tidy. While she was content to let the dishes soak for a while, he was always insistent on cleaning up immediately after dinner and she had never known a man to pay attention to whether the stove was wiped down or how the dishes were placed into the dishwasher. At first, she had thought it was because he was trying to impress her, but realized quickly that "OCD" and "Damon" went hand and hand.

"I'm not here enough to make a mess of things," Damon said with a shrug. He had always liked order. It was something he could control in a life where he had learned at a very early age that little was within his control. He'd admittedly taken it up a notch, making sure his place was in order for Elena's arrival. She turned and studied him for a moment. There was still an air of nervousness about him.

"You seem anxious," she stated, taking a couple steps towards him. He briefly looked away before turning his eyes back to her looking almost guilty. It scared him that she seemed to know him so well. Most everything Elena made him feel scared him. She had no idea how hard he had to fight to keep his fears at bay.

"I'm just glad you're here," he admitted. "It's been a long week."

"I could tell," Elena said. "You seemed pretty stressed out on the phone." Damon sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"By the time I got back here from Dallas, I was essentially five days behind, between the reading of the will, my subsequent behavior and then my trip. Throw in trying to figure out how the hell I'm supposed to run a sawmill and a client who would rather not stay in rehab and stressed out pretty much covers it." He moved so he was resting against the pillows and motioned for Elena to join him as he kicked off his dress shoes. She removed her own shoes and climbed in beside him. He wrapped an arm around her as her head settled onto his shoulder, an arm draping over his torso.

"Anything I can do to help?" Elena asked. Damon smiled even as he rested his head against hers and closed his eyes.

"This," he said. "Just do this." Elena smiled.

"What about this?" she asked, just before leaning up and giving him a kiss. "Or this?" She kissed him again, this time a bit more passionately. "Or there's this." She moved so she was straddling him before taking his face in her hands and kissing him long and hard and deep. She could feel the effect she was having on him as his hands started to slid up her thighs.

"I think this might help," he said before his lips went to her throat, finding a place he knew Elena liked. He was rewarded by a satisfied moan as his name fell from her lips. He had intended to show her the bedroom and bathroom, change into something more comfortable and start dinner. Instead, he found both of their clothes coming off, dinner a distant thought.

* * *

Elena sat at Damon's kitchen counter, frowning as she wiggled on the industrial stool in an effort to get comfortable. The couch was slightly more inviting, but she had chosen the counter top to set up her laptop and spread out her papers, aiming to get a bit of work done before Damon returned from his meetings.

She had been in New York for less than 24 hours, but she already remembered why she both loved and hated it. They had spent her first evening largely in bed, making up for the five days they had been apart. Damon had visibly morphed from his New York suit and tie to the man she had gotten to know in Mystic Falls. His hair, which had been combed into submission, returned to its usual messy state and his wardrobe – when he finally put clothes back on to cook dinner – turned more casual, sweats and a white t-shirt taking over. Even his posture was more relaxed and his smile came easier as the night went on.

True to his word, he had cooked dinner, Elena's only job to sit and keep him company. His culinary skills continued to surprise her, this time resulting in a glazed chicken breast with a side of rice and steamed carrots. For dessert, he had produced a carton of ice cream and cupcakes bought from a bakery down the street. They had attempted to settle in and watch TV, but unable to keep their hands off one another, they had ended up right back in Damon's bedroom.

He had left early that morning, looking devilish in another dark suit although this time, Elena noted, he hadn't bothered with styling his hair. He had woken her from her slumber just long enough to kiss her goodbye and promise to see her that afternoon. She had slept a couple more hours before getting up and showering before hitting the streets to find a dress for the gala the next night. Mission accomplished and Caroline approved, she had returned to Damon's apartment, using the key he had left on the counter for her, and was now waiting for his return.

She frowned as she scrolled through the latest round of Google search results, still not satisfied with what the search engine was presenting her. She bit her lip, concentrating on the screen in front of her. She was typing in another phrase when she heard the doorknob rattling. A moment later, Damon appeared. His face lit up in a grin when his eyes landed on her.

"I like coming home to find a hot woman in my kitchen," he declared. Elena smirked at him.

"I happen to not hate having a hot man interrupt my work," she retorted as Damon made his way towards her.

"We do make a hot couple," he agreed. He leaned down and kissed her. "Hi."

"Hi," she replied with a smile. "You done for the day?"

"I'm all yours," Damon confirmed. He reached up and loosened his tie with swift fingers, then shed his suit jacket as he took in the papers spread across the counter. "What's all this?" He unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt.

"Caroline," Elena answered. Damon frowned.

"Surely she let you use a couple of vacation days from planning her wedding."

"This isn't wedding-related," she told him. "She's overwhelmed with planning the town's Halloween festival, the community Thanksgiving dinner and the Christmas celebration. Not to mention she also has a few parties and weddings for other clients on top of her own wedding. I somehow agreed to take on the fundraising aspect of the Halloween festival. They want to do something different this year and I'm coming up empty."

"Silent auction?" Damon asked. He opened his fridge and pulled out a soda. He offered Elena one and her answer was to nod.

"Silent auctions go hand and hand with the Founder's Day event in the spring," she told him, taking her soda from him. "Most eligible bachelor auction – also a spring event. It needs to be something family friendly and any food-related event is ruled out since there are so many food vendors booked. I'm pretty close to setting up a dunking booth or a kissing booth and calling it a day."

"No kissing booths," Damon said as he undid his cuffs and pushed up his sleeves. "No one kisses you but me. Dunking booth… Lame. Unless you can talk Stefan into taking a turn, in which case, I'll be your first and best customer." Elena rolled her eyes as Damon busied himself with scrolling through his phone.

"I thought about a pageant of some sort. Nothing like Miss Mystic Falls but maybe a Miss Halloween kind of thing." Damon grinned, finding what he was looking for on his phone. He sat it down on the counter and leaned against the granite surface so he was facing Elena, his arms crossed over his chest.

"What if I told you I had an excellent idea for a way you could not only raise money for whatever cause Mystic Falls is championing this week, but also blow any idea Caroline might have had before and probably in the future right out of the water?" Elena eyed him.

"I'm listening."

"Do you know who Harper James is?" Elena nodded.

"He's that football player on the Redskins, right? Jeremy goes on and on about him."

"That would be him," Damon confirmed. "And given Mystic Falls' proximity to Washington D.C., what team do the locals tend to cheer for?"

"The Redskins," Elena replied, starting to get an idea as to where Damon was heading.

"It just so happens that Harper is one of my clients. And I just confirmed that he has a bye week and as of right now, nothing scheduled. I could call him up, see if he would be willing to make an appearance, sign some autographs, take a few photos. I'll get him to sign a few things to auction off. I'm sure we can wrangle a couple of game tickets to throw in the mix, maybe put together some sort of weekend getaway package." Elena looked at him.

"If you could make that happen, Caroline just might drop Tyler and marry you instead," she said seriously. She didn't follow football closely, but she knew Harper James was a big deal, just like the Redskins were, to the residents of Mystic Falls. Damon chuckled.

"Harper owes me a few favors. I can definitely make it happen," he said. "As for Caroline, she's all Lockwood's." He picked up his phone, unlocked it and tapped the screen a few times. A few moments later, he tapped the speaker button and sat it back down on the counter, waiting for Harper to pick up.

"What are you doing?" Elena asked as the sound of ringing filled the air.

"Calling Harper," Damon replied. There was a clattering sound and then a deep voice came over the speaker.

"What up, bro?" Elena made a face at the greeting. Damon grinned and winked at her.

"You know, just making money," he answered.

"As much of mine as your sorry ass takes you ought to be rolling in it." Damon chuckled.

"Careful, James. I'll be negotiating a new contract with the Skins for you in a few months. You'll want to play nice." Elena looked on, amused at the ribbing between the two.

"I want a better parking space at the training facility," Harper said. He was serious.

"The GM will give you the damn moon to keep you from going free agent and you ask for a better parking space," Damon said. "We can get you your own personal driver to and from practice if parking is your biggest concern."

"Was there something you wanted or did you just call to harass me? I didn't appreciate it when you did it a couple nights ago out of boredom and I won't appreciate it now. I've got a pizza on the way."

"Just a pizza?" Damon asked. "I'm sure you've got some hot wings on the way too, maybe some cheesy bread. Probably a gallon of soda to go with that six pack in the fridge."

"I don't know why I pay you."

"Because you love me," Damon quipped. "And I actually did call to do something besides harass you this time. I need a favor."

"Lay it on me, hoss," Harper replied.

"Hoss?" Elena mouthed. Damon grinned and nodded.

"That bye week the weekend before Halloween? You have anything planned I don't know about?"

"You know when I go to the bathroom. Do you think I have anything planned you don't know about?" Harper shot back.

"Just making sure you haven't managed to get yourself a girlfriend in the last two days. You were going on about some press secretary assistant you met at a bar."

"Dude, she had the crazy eyes. I stopped that before it started." Damon rolled his eyes and Elena stifled a laugh.

"Like I said, I need a favor," he said. "My hometown, Mystic Falls, has this big Halloween festival the weekend before Halloween every year and they're looking to raise money for…" Damon realized he didn't know exactly what he was volunteering Harper for. Elena passed him the notebook she had been taking notes in. "…the area food pantry to help them meet demand with the upcoming holiday season."

"I'm listening," Harper said, his tone now serious. Elena picked up on his change in demeanor. Damon knew he had him. Hunger was something Harper had experienced firsthand and devoted a significant amount of his time to efforts to eradicate it.

"My girl is planning the fundraising aspect…"

"Wait a minute!" Harper interrupted, just as Elena's eyes widened. "Your girl? Since when does your commitment phobe self have a girl?" Damon looked at Elena who looked surprised even as she tried to cover it up. He smiled.

"She's sitting right here and you're on speaker," he told Harper. "Elena, meet Harper. Harper, Elena."

"Hi, Harper," Elena said feeling awkward at being brought into the conversation.

"Elena," Harper drawled. She could hear the smirk in his voice. "Oh, Elena. I can't wait to meet you. If you've got my boy Damon calling you his girl, you must be a force of nature. That fool can barely dress himself in the morning and he done gone and got him a girlfriend."

"Bastard," Damon muttered, making Elena laugh, even though she wasn't sure if she was actually Damon's girlfriend.

"You tell me what you need, Elena, and I'll be there with bells on."

"She needs you to…," Damon started, but Elena cut him off.

"If you have time," she said, giving Damon a pointed look, "we – myself and my friend Caroline – would really appreciate it if you could take some time out of your schedule to appear at our Halloween festival. Damon was saying something about signing autographs and maybe taking some photos? It would be great if that's something you would be willing to do."

"Oh, she's nice," Harper said. "I like her, Damon. You're all rude and demanding and here she is, being sweet. Elena, of course I'll make an appearance. Not in the least because I want to shake your hand in person. Any girl that can put up with Damon needs a reward."

"Stop being a dick," Damon cut in.

"Stop being a caveman," Harper shot back. "I'm in. Elena, just have your boy get me the details and I'll be there."

"Thank you so much," Elena said, beaming.

"Thanks, Harper," Damon added, his tone turning more serious. "I appreciate it."

"Come on, Hoss. You know I'd do anything for your stupid self."

"All the insults," Damon said with a shake of his head.

"I use them with love," Harper retorted. Damon ended the call and turned to Elena.

"Problem solved," he said with an air of self-satisfaction.

"You are my favorite person," Elena told him seriously, her eyes sparkling. "Caroline is going to freak out."

"Let's go back to the part where I wasn't already your favorite person," Damon said. He moved so Elena was pinned between him and the counter, his hands resting on the counter on either side of her.

"Didn't I already tell you you needed to grow pigtails and start wearing monogrammed smock dresses if you wanted to be my favorite person?" Elena asked, referring to one of their earliest conversation.

"Ella can be your favorite person under five," Damon snorted. "I want the title of favorite person, period."

"Fine," Elena relented. "Right now, that title is yours." They shared a brief kiss. "How long have you been working with Harper?" she asked once they broke apart. She turned back to her computer to finish sending a few emails. "You seem close."

"About two years," Damon answered. He perched on the stool next to her, content to just watch her work for a while. "He's a good kid. Life dealt him a pretty pathetic hand, but his grandmother and football kept him out of trouble. Or at least out of serious trouble. He didn't get drafted out of college, but I took a chance on him, got him picked up as a walk on by the Redskins." Elena smiled at Damon.

"What made you take a chance on him?" she asked curiously. She had the impression that Damon only went after the best of the best and a guy that had been passed over in the multiple rounds of an NFL draft didn't quite fit that bill.

"I don't really know," Damon admitted. "I saw him play a few times. He loved it, you know? You could just see it in him. Football means something to him."

"Where did he play in college?"

"Alabama. The best of the best. He didn't get many touches until his senior year, but it was enough to be impressive, help the team win a National Championship."

"And what's with the hoss thing?" Elena continued. Damon grinned.

"He grew up in Louisiana. I guess it's just street language he picked up. He's called me that as long as I've known him."

"Along with a few other choice nicknames I'm going to have to remember for a future use."

"That's just Harper," Damon said with a shake of his head. He reached out and tucked a stray chunk of hair behind Elena's ear. "Why don't we go out tonight, have dinner at that sushi place you've been going on about?"

"I'd like that," Elena said with a smile as she shut her computer and turned her full attention to Damon.

"And then afterwards, if you're up for it, maybe we can meet up with a couple friends of mine for drinks?" Elena's smile widened at the thought of Damon introducing her to his friends.

"Sushi and drinks. Sounds like a date." Damon grinned, looking relieved. Elena couldn't help but wonder why he always seemed so nervous whenever he asked her to do something with him. It was as though he expected rejection at every turn.

"It is," he confirmed. "Be ready in about an hour?" Elena glanced at the clock.

"I think I can do that."

* * *

It had taken Elena an hour and a half to shower and dress. Damon had waited patiently, his clothes changed and a splash of cologne dabbed on while Elena was in the shower. He had propped his feet up on his coffee table to watch Sports Center and had begun to think Elena would never be ready when she appeared, wearing a simple green dress that was made of a fabric that clung to her curves. She had dressed it up with accessories and her nude-colored wedges only served to make her long legs look even longer. In dark wash jeans and a button down, his felt under dressed next to her, even though they were going to a more casual restaurant.

He opted to hail them a cab rather than drive his Benz, and he'd had to give the cab driver a death stare when he caught him openly staring at Elena in the rearview mirror. He had put a possessive hand on her thigh, sending a message, however different it may have been, to both Elena and the cab driver that she was his. Elena responded by placing her own hand over his and giving it an affectionate squeeze that made him want to direct the cab driver to turn around and take them back to his place.

He wasn't much on sushi. It was raw fish, at best. He had learned to tolerate it as sushi seemed to be a number of his business contacts' meal of choice, but he would take a steak over a tuna roll any day. And it seemed Elena loved it, which was all the more reason for him to sit down to a meal without complaint.

She was charming as she browsed the menu and he let her take charge of ordering. He held her hand across the table and was content to be second fiddle, listening to her go on about her day and the dress she bought. She wanted to know all about his morning and he gladly told her, reveling in the fact that he had someone to talk to about those things. And when their dinner arrived, she teased him about his poor use of chopsticks before showing him how to use them correctly.

When he had been thinking about inviting Elena to New York, he had had visions of extravagant nights out on the town, showing her the best, most elaborate time he could offer. But in the days following her agreeing to join him for the gala, he had a change of heart. He didn't care what they did or where they went, so long as she was with him. She settled something in his very soul, just by being by his side.

They opted to skip dessert and Damon paid the bill, eager to move on to the next part of his night. Outside, he took her hand in one of his while hailing them a cab with the other. Another benefit of being with Elena, he realized, was just how quickly one of the yellow cars pulled up to the curb.

"Who are we going to meet?" Elena asked once they were tucked comfortably in the backseat.

"My friend Rose and her boyfriend Trevor," Damon answered. "Trevor is an agent too. He's not as good as me, but who is?" Elena rolled her eyes, drawing a chuckle out of Damon. "I think you'll like Rose. She shoots straight from the hip, doesn't let anyone screw her over. She's a no nonsense kind of girl, but she puts up with Trevor, which blows her cover right out of the water."

"How did you meet her?" Elena asked. Damon grinned.

"I hit on her at a bar," he admitted. "She told me to go to hell. We've been friends ever since."

"So that's the key – turn you down and next thing you know, you're friends. Or going on dinner dates." Damon looked at Elena.

"You might be on to something, Gilbert," he said. He lifted her hand and kissed the back of it. "Except I think you got a far better deal out of turning me down than Rose did. You managed to get me in bed."

"Is everything about sex with you?" Elena asked. Damon shook his head and wrapped an arm around her to pull her closer, realizing he had made a lot of suggestive comments since Elena's arrival. While he rather enjoyed their physical relationship, she was more than that.

"Not with you," he said in a soft voice. He kissed her hair affectionately and felt her melt into his side. She gave him a smile. They fell into a comfortable silence for the remainder of the drive to the nightclub near Damon's apartment.

Nerves overtook Damon as he joined Elena on the sidewalk outside the nightclub. Rose had already made a big deal over the fact that Damon was bringing Elena to the gala and she had nearly lost it when he texted her earlier to see if she and Trevor wanted to meet up. For his part, Trevor had sent him texts throughout the day, teasing him about turning in his player card in favor of settling for just one girl.

"You ready for this?" Damon asked as he took her hand.

"Should I be nervous?" Elena replied.

"Rose can be a bit much," Damon said. He leaned down and placed another kiss on Elena's temple. "She's looking forward to meeting you. I haven't exactly brought a girl around in while." Elena gave him a reassuring smile.

"Buy me a drink?" she asked, starting towards the entrance. Damon nodded once and dropped her hand, only to place a hand on the small of her back to guide her through the entry. He paused, looking for Rose and Trevor. Rose must have had her eyes peeled for their arrival, as she started waving furiously from a corner booth almost as soon as they walked in.

"Over here," Damon muttered to Elena, keeping his hand on her. Elena wore a nervous smile as they made their way over. Trevor, wearing a suit, was as good looking as Elena had expected him to be. Thanks to Damon, she was sure all sports agents were suave and deadly handsome. Rose, however, was nothing like the blonde haired, blue-eyed model she'd dreamed up in her mind. She had an olive complexion and her dark hair was cut into a sharp, chic bob, a streak of blue strategically placed. She wore a simple black dress and a bright smile.

"Well, well, well," Trevor said, smirking as the couple approached. "The rumors are true."

"Don't be a jackass," Rose shot at her boyfriend before turning back to Damon and Elena.

"I'd listen to her," Damon drawled. "Your jackass behavior is anything but becoming."

"How I missed that wit," Trevor retorted although he was grinning. Damon pulled Elena closer to his side.

"Elena, this is my friend Rose and her boyfriend, Trevor," Damon said, formally introducing them to Elena. "Rose, Trevor, this is my girlfriend, Elena."

Elena was certain her heart skipped a few beats as the word "girlfriend" fell from Damon's lips. He appeared completely at ease, as though calling her his girlfriend was the most natural thing in the world. She didn't hate how it sounded, but it took her off guard. They hadn't labeled their relationship, hadn't instituted any rules or discussed the fact that they lived in two different states, led two very different lives. She would have to bring it up later, but instead of letting on that the word surprised her, she smiled politely.

"Hi," she greeted, offering her hand to Rose. "It's nice to meet you."

"You have no idea how nice it is to meet you," Rose replied. She bypassed Elena's hand and pulled her into a hug. Trevor gave Damon a sly thumbs up from behind the two girls which made Damon grin. "You're even prettier in person."

"I'm still adjusting to the part where she actually exists," Trevor said. He held out his hand to Elena who took it. "When Rose told me there was a woman in Damon's life, I thought for sure she was making it up." He kissed the back of her hand politely and then let it go.

"You should be more concerned about the fact that you somehow have managed to keep a girl," Damon shot back. Rose and Trevor slid into one side of the booth while Elena and Damon took the seats across from them. Damon squeezed her hand under the table reassuringly.

"Rose loves me," Trevor said with a cocky grin. He kissed Rose's cheek which caused her to make a face.

"I do love you," she confirmed. "I just don't always like you." She turned to Elena. "Although he does have a point. If I hadn't seen Damon sitting at a bar, sulking because you hadn't texted him all day, and then witnessed him light up like the Rockefeller Christmas Tree when you did, I would have never believed it." Elena frowned, trying to remember.

"When was that?" she asked.

"When I had to come up here for Enzo," Damon admitted. "You were drinking with Rebekah instead of replying to text messages."

"I was babysitting," Elena corrected. Damon raised an eyebrow. Elena rolled her eyes. "And then Rebekah and I had some wine."

"You don't get to give her a hard time when you were drinking a glass of scotch all by your lonesome," Rose stated. A waitress dressed in a revealing skirt and blazer combo appeared at their table and took Damon and Elena's drink orders. "He showed me your picture," Rose told Elena after the waitress was gone. "That's when I knew he was hung up on you." Elena glanced at Damon and saw his cheeks were the faintest shade of red.

Rose and Elena fell into an easy conversation, leaving Damon and Trevor to discuss sports, the only real thing they had in common aside from Rose. Even as he talked to Trevor, Damon kept a hand on Elena's thigh, occasionally giving it a squeeze, teasing her. For her part, she didn't give anything away, but slyly put her hand over his to squeeze it before eventually resting her own hand high on his thigh.

"I'm going to get another drink," Trevor said after a while. "Rose, can I get you anything?"

"Another one of these," Rose said, indicating her empty martini glass.

"Elena?" Damon asked, sliding out of the booth to follow Trevor's lead.

"Another glass of wine would be good," she said, giving him a soft smile that made his heart palpitate. He nodded and disappeared with Trevor. Rose watched them go, making sure they were out of hearing distance before turning to Elena.

"It's good to see him happy," she said. "He deserves it."

"It' been a rough month or so for him," Elena said with a nod. Rose smiled.

"It's been a rough year for him," she corrected. "It's not my place to go into details, but it's nice to see him smiling. Really smiling, not that smarmy smirk he uses when he's trying to pick up a woman for the night." Rose seemed to remember who she was talking to. "Sorry," she added. "It's just… Damon…"

"He hit on me at his father's funeral," Elena told her. "And then ended up in a coat closet with some blonde when I turned him down. I know exactly what smirk you're talking about."

"He really hit on you at his father's funeral?" Rose asked. Elena nodded in confirmation.

"Apparently I looked bored by the open bar so he used that as an excuse to invite me to have a little more fun." Rose made a face.

"There was an open bar at a funeral?"

"Repasses are a bit over the top down south," Elena explained. "Especially when it's the repass of a member of a founding family." Rose shook her head in disbelief.

"I'm glad you turned him down," she said. "If you hadn't, you would have never seen him again after the coat closet."

"He said you turned him down," Elena ventured.

"I did," Rose nodded. "And then the smartass made a comment about me being a lesbian because obviously that is the only way I'd turn Damon Salvatore down." Elena chuckled. "I kicked his ass. More with words than literal kicking of the ass, but with Damon, you have to do that sometimes."

"He's stubborn," Elena agreed.

"Among other things," Rose nodded. She glanced over at the bar where Trevor and Damon were waiting for their drinks. "But seriously, it's great to see him happy again. He was down and out for a while. Trevor and I didn't think he'd ever let himself fall for someone again."

"Katherine," Elena said, letting the girl's name fall from her lips before she could stop herself. She hadn't let on to Damon that she was aware of Katherine, wasn't sure how to bring it up with him. But she had thought of the woman occasionally, usually cursing her for breaking Damon's heart, but sometimes, when she was in Damon's arms, thanking her for letting him go.

"That would be the bitch who broke his heart," Rose said with malice. "He was a mess for a while. But seeing him walk in here with you… He was practically skipping. So consider this my warning, Elena. Don't hurt him. Feel free to yell at him, put him in his place. He's going to need that from time to time. But don't hurt him. He's been through enough." Elena smiled at Rose.

"I don't plan on hurting him," she said. "And thank you, for caring about him. He doesn't always realize there are people who do." The two women exchanged another smile, ending their conversation as the men returned to their table.

"For you," Damon said, placing a glass of wine in front of Elena, his own tumbler of bourbon in his hand as he sat back down. He leaned over. "Let's go home after this one," he whispered in her hear. Elena nodded her agreement. Then she clinked her glass with his and grinned coyly.

"Drink up."

* * *

Over an hour later, Damon let them into his apartment. Elena wasted no time in stepping out of her wedges, her feet killing her.

"I told you we should have taken a cab instead of walking back to my place," Damon said with a knowing grin as he leaned over to pick up Elena's shoes and move them out of the middle of the floor. He dropped them next to the door and didn't see Elena smirk. She wasn't exactly messy, but she could stand to leave a pair of shoes in her living room overnight. For Damon, however, everything had a place.

"It was too beautiful of a night to take a cab," she told him. Damon had to agree. The city seemed to be pulling out all the stops, from the perfect early fall temperatures to the way the lights were twinkling. It hadn't hurt that a beautiful woman had held on to the crook of his arm as they walked.

"You look beautiful tonight," Damon told her, crossing the room to her so he could put his arms around her. "I know I told you that earlier, but it warranted being said again."

"Thank you," Elena said softly. She didn't know if she would ever get used to Damon complimenting her. She hoped she wouldn't. They exchanged a soft kiss. "I liked Rose," she added.

"Rose liked you," Damon replied. "She likes you a lot. And Trevor also approves, not that his opinion matters." Elena laughed and untangled herself from Damon.

"I'm going to go change," she told him. Damon nodded. Elena disappeared into his bedroom and removed her dress before stepping into the bathroom to remove her makeup and prepare for bed. She heard Damon come into the bedroom and knew by the sound of him opening drawers that he was changing into pajamas as well.

It was strange, she realized, getting ready for bed with someone. Even though she had dated and had a few relationships over the years, she had never really gone through her bedtime routine with the man she was planning to sleep next to present. It was strangely intimate. She had just finished brushing out her hair when she heard Damon tap on the partially open door, remaining on the other side of it to respect her privacy, should she need it.

"Lena?"

"Come in," she told him. He pulled the door the rest of the way open and gave her a smile before reaching around her to retrieve his toothbrush. He started through the motions of brushing his teeth which for whatever reason, made Elena smile. She picked up her own toothbrush and went through the same motions, barely avoiding choking on her own spit when Damon unabashedly spit into the sink, rinsed his mouth and then the sink and then kissed her cheek before disappearing back into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him to let her finish her routine in peace.

When she opened the door a few minutes later, he was lounging on the bed, shirtless, but wearing a pair of pajamas pants she found highly unnecessary. He was propped up on his pillows, one arm resting casually behind his head. She wordlessly climbed in beside him, tucking herself into his side. His arms snaked around her and he kissed her forehead before just holding her for a while. Elena chewed on her lip, knowing she needed to bring up the "girlfriend" slip from earlier before she could rest.

"Damon?"

"Hmm?" He had closed his eyes, but opened them to look at her.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Anything." Elena took a deep breath which got his attention.

"Earlier, on the phone with Harper, you referred to me as your girl." Damon nodded but didn't say anything, waiting, sure he knew where this conversation was going. He took a few breaths to steady his heart which was suddenly racing. "And then you introduced me to Rose and Trevor as your girlfriend." Damon nodded again. Elena sat up slightly, wishing he would say something. "What does that mean?"

Damon sat up in bed and took one more deep breath. He wanted this with Elena, but the idea of a relationship, of putting his heart on the line, still scared him down to his very soul. He reached for Elena's hand, needing physical contact to anchor him in the moment.

"It means I consider you my girlfriend," he told her. "I had no intentions of that happening. I spied you by the bar at my father's funeral, thought you were beautiful, and decided you would be the one to ease my fake grief. But then you turned me down which only heightened my attraction to you and you did nothing to turn me off when you were so flippant with me the day I joined you at the coffee shop."

"I was not flippant," Elena interrupted. "You interrupted me." Damon smirked.

"You called me an ass," he reminded her. Elena scoffed, admittedly surprised he remembered one of their earliest exchanges which had been brief.

"You were all 'talk to me' on the phone, making comments about how you always get what you want. And I was trying to work. You were definitely being an ass."

"The argument could be made that I was also working," Damon said, earning himself another eye roll from Elena. "But then I walked you home from The Grill that night. My intentions were mainly to see you home safely, but I will confess that I had a veiled hope that I may end up in your bed. Instead, I found a woman who was not only beautiful, but was also intelligent. And so I asked you to dinner and you've managed to captivate me ever since. So yes, I think of you as my girlfriend. What I am to you is completely up to you, but I hope you'll consider an equal term of endearment." Elena was beaming.

"That was quite the speech," she told him. He brushed his fingertips along her cheek.

"You're quite the girl."

"I want this," she told him. "I want us. I want to introduce you as my boyfriend and say things like 'my boyfriend took me to dinner at such and such place the other night.'" She paused and laced her fingers with Damon's. "There's just the matter of the fact that we live in two separate places and lead two very different lives. Yours is chaotic and high profile. Mine is much simpler. Relationships are a lot of work and when they're long distance too…"

"They're even more work," Damon finished. He moved so he was sitting upright against the headboard and pulled Elena with him. "But we both want this. That's half the battle."

"How do we do it?" Elena asked. She looked up at him from where her head was resting on his shoulder.

"Well, we figure it out, step by step," Damon told her. "I'll be back and forth to Mystic Falls a lot over the next several months. You can come spend time here, with me. And they make these things called phones and computers that make it really easy to talk to people whenever we want. I could literally video chat you from the back of a taxi. We can do this, Elena."

"We can," she confirmed. Part of her mind jumped far ahead to a point where they would need to make a decision on how they would spend the rest of their lives. Would she live in New York? Would he move back to Mystic Falls? But then she remembered this was brand new, that they had only been together a month and a half. Damon was right. They just had to take it step by step and figure out what came next as "next" came.

"So – this is official?" Damon asked. Elena could hear the anxiousness in his voice. She smiled at him and nodded.

"It's official," she confirmed. She leaned in and kissed him then, a long, sweet kiss that essentially served to seal their relationship. But when she pulled away, she felt the nagging need to tell him she knew about Katherine in the name of keeping their relationship open and honest. "There's something else."

"Let's hear it," Damon said, his arm that wasn't around Elena going back to rest behind his head. He looked comfortable, at ease. She hated that she was potentially about to destroy that.

"Stefan told me about Katherine," she admitted. While Damon didn't remove his arm from around her, she felt his grip slacken and watched as his face fell.

"Did he?" Damon asked. "And when did my little brother think to tell you all about a time in my life I'd rather forget ever happened?" There was an edge to his tone that made Elena uneasy.

"He came to see me a couple days after I spent the night at the Boarding House when the storms came through," Elena explained. "He didn't mean anything malicious…" Damon snorted. "He didn't," she insisted, putting a hand on his chest. She could see him shutting down, pulling back. Appropriately, Stefan's words about fighting for him when he tried to push her away flooded back. "He was there to ask me to give you a chance, to fight for you when I needed to. He thought I should know about Katherine. I should have told you sooner, but it never seemed to be the right time."

"How does Stefan always come off as the good guy?" Damon asked. Elena shook her head and pulled away to sit upright and face Damon.

"No," she said. "This isn't about Stefan. Maybe he overstepped his boundaries, but he did so in hopes that I would understand you better. Your reputation proceeded you, Damon, even if I hadn't seen you slip into a coat closet with the blonde at your father's funeral. I know relationships aren't your specialty, which makes the fact that you want one with me all the more special." She paused and shook her head slightly, even as Damon remained silent.

"The point I'm trying to make here is, I know Katherine hurt you. And I want you to know that I know that. You don't need to tell me anything about her. I'm not asking you to. I just want you to know that I know. And that I'm not her."

Silence fell between them. Elena sat on the bed for a while, waiting for Damon to say something. She could practically see the gears churning in his head. Several minutes passed and for no reason other than the fact that the silence was starting to drive her mad, she excused herself to get something to drink. She took her time in the kitchen, sipping a glass of orange juice as she looked at the city that was visible through the window. Knowing she couldn't hide forever, she made her was back to the bedroom. Damon was sitting on the edge of the bed, taking in the same view Elena had just been admiring.

"Took you long enough," he said, not looking at her. Elena stood at the foot of the bed, not sure whether to join him. She had never intended to upset him, had just wanted to be honest with him, and yet his walls seemed to have been reconstructed at record speed.

"I thought you might need a minute," she said softly. Something in her tone made Damon turn to her. He saw then that she was nervous, timid, even. His resolve to be mad at her for not telling him she knew about Katherine until now dissolved though he still had a few choice words he planned to say to Stefan.

"You can sit down," he said bluntly, turning back to the window. He knew a lot of his reaction was based on fear. He didn't like to relive his time with Katherine and he certainly didn't like to explore what her betrayal had done to him. But Elena seemed to have a knack for unknowingly making him face his fears and so here he was, once more about to break a personal commandment, this one being to never speak of Katherine Pierce.

Elena hesitated for a beat, something Damon didn't miss, before she carefully climbed onto the bed as though she didn't want to disturb him. She stayed on her side, waiting for Damon to make the next move. With a heavy sigh, he pushed himself back on the bed so he was once more resting against the headboard with Elena mimicking him on her side.

"I know you aren't her," he said. "You are kind and good and compassionate. You do favor her – the same dark hair, the same dark eyes – but that's where the comparisons end. Your have a pure heart. Her's was as black as they come." Elena chewed on her lip. She'd been unaware that she favored Katherine and wasn't sure how she felt about that new piece of information. But then she dismissed it, based completely on Damon's words that she wasn't a thing like Katherine.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you I knew about her sooner," she said. "Don't be too upset with Stefan? He meant well. He was just looking out for you, trying to protect you."

"I don't need protecting," Damon snorted.

"I know," Elena soothed. "But Stefan was just doing what any good brother would do. He's my friend, but ultimately, he's on your side. Whether you want him to be or not." Damon shook his head before he leaned it back against his headboard.

"How did this turn back into a conversation about Stefan?" Elena sighed.

"I don't know," she admitted. She decided to tell him the rest of what Stefan had said during his visit. "He told me about Katherine as a warning – as a way to warn me not to hurt you. And then he asked me to talk to you about him, put in a good word. I don't need to know about your past with Katherine. I don't need to know all the details about why you and Stefan have such a difficult relationship. But I needed to tell you the truth because I know you've been lied to enough in the past."

With a deep breath, Elena sat upright in the bed and turned so she was facing Damon full on. If she was going to put her heart on the line, she was going to do it looking in his eyes.

"You are not perfect," she informed him. "You drink too when things get hard. You're cocky. You know how attractive you are and you aren't afraid to turn on the charm to get what you want. You try to push people away who care about you and you don't let many people see the side of you that I get to see – the part that can quote Faulkner and lets Ella cuddle up with you on the couch to watch cartoons.

"I'm not perfect either. I overthink everything and I spend a lot of time denying my heart because my head tells me something different. I'd rather spend my Friday nights with a book and a mug of hot tea than put on a dress and hit the town. I'm lame in every sense of the word. But you bring out another side of me, a side that makes me feel alive.

"As imperfect as you are, I accept you just as you are. I'm not going to try to change you or make you into a man you aren't. I'm not going to play the middle man between you and Stefan and I'm certainly not going to sleep with any of your clients." Elea paused and bit her lip for a moment. "I just thought you should know that," she added. It took a moment before Damon reached for her hand and tangled his fingers with hers.

"Here's the thing," he said. "You have changed me, Elena. I'm still a jackass. I'm always going to be, especially when it comes to my job. I'm always going to drink more bourbon than is strictly necessary. And you're right, I do know I'm better looking than the average guy and there has been times when I have used it to my advantage.

"But you've got me holding doors and buying flowers and asking you to be my girlfriend. The guy I was six weeks ago would have never done any of those things. He certainly wouldn't have watched an absolutely mind numbing show about a bald toddler named Caribou with a two year old while you were upstairs taking a shower. That Damon? He would have given the kid a popsicle and joined you."

"Callilou," Elena said with a smile. Damon frowned.

"What?"

"The bald toddler? His name is Callilou." Damon shook his head.

"Whatever," he said. "Still a horrible show. But my point is, you've changed me. It's not always easy for me to reconcile that. You've seen a glowing representation of how I react when things don't go my way. But you have changed me. And I like what you've done with me so far." Elena smiled at him.

"Are we okay?" she asked. Damon nodded with a smile.

"We're good," he confirmed. He held his arm out for her and she went to him, curling into his side. He kissed her forehead. "For what it's worth, Katherine did break my heart. She shattered it and I was in a dark place for a long time. But we were never good for one another. We were toxic. And now, I'm damn glad she woke me up to how horrible of a person she was. She let me go. So I could find you."

"You really do have a way with words," Elena told him, her smile still in place. "I can only imagine how persuasive you are at the negotiating table."

"I can assure you that Harper James will have his premiere parking spot," Damon replied, earning a laugh from Elena. He kissed her forehead again and then stood up. He reached out and tugged at the comforter, pulling it out from under her and then covered her with it. He slid in beside her and turned off his bedside lamp before rolling over and pulling her into his chest, his other arm going under her head so she was using it as a pillow. Tonight, he would just hold her, let her know she was precious to him.

"Goodnight, Damon," she whispered, her hand reaching up to grasp his hand that was under her head. He kissed her hair.

"Night, angel."

* * *

**They're official! Woo hoo! And the gala is coming up in the next chapter - good times! **

**Harper was partially inspired by Michael Oher. And as a Tennessee grad, you have no _idea _how it pained me to write that Bama was the best of the best. But I did it. **

**Let me know what you thought of this one!**


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